A Thin Line
by Lady Belle
Summary: A line has been crossed. GSR
1. Chapter 1

A Thin Line

Rated-T (Will likely increase later)

Summary- A line has been crossed. GSR

Disclaimer: Of course I own them. I keep them in a cage in my basement.

A/N- Please r&r. It warms my soul to know if someone actually likes what I write. And I'll accept criticisms, but only if their meant to help, not harm.

--

It was suddenly hard to breath.

Her chest was tight, nails dug into the palms of her clenched fists.

She stared at him. His smile… god, how long has it been since she's seen him smile like that? He was so very attractive in his dark dress pants and light blue shirt.

When the red head put her hand on his arm Sara felt something squeeze in her throat. She stood quickly startling the occupants at her table.

"Are you alright, Sara?" Joshua asked concern etched on his face.

"Fine," she rasped. "I just need to-" she stole another glance at the corner table, "-use the washroom."

-

Sara stood in front of the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with unshed tears. She saw none of this, however. All she saw was a leggy red head, stroking Grissom's arm.

Absently, she turned on the tap, letting the water run through her fingers. She soon was aware of warm tears dripping onto her wrists. Angrily, Sara wiped them away with the back of her hands.

She seethed. Why did she continue to let him do this to her?

Sara never figured herself to be masochistic.

She inhaled sharply when she heard the bathroom door open, still glaring into the sink she barely acknowledged the woman until she spoke.

"Are you alright, hon?" Her voice was silky and smooth.

Sara looked up into the mirror, dismayed to see the object of her plight staring back at her with concern.

The red head.

"I'm fine." Sara bit out, embarrassed when she felt a tear slip down her cheek.

Red, as Sara decided to call her, began reapplying her lip stick.

"Are you sure?" Her voice and eyes were soft and warm.

Sara wished she seemed cruel.

She was very beautiful, Sara bitterly admitted. Red was tall, her complexion was perfect, her green eyes were bright. Her hair reminded Sara of rich cinnamon; it gleamed under the bathroom lights. She was also a good ten years older than Sara. Red, so far, had aged fantastically.

Sara swallowed.

"I'm sure." Sara whispered staring blindly into the sink, no longer able to stare at the woman.

"Okay." Red said, snapping her lip stick cap closed. "Keep your head up, darlin'." Then, with a quick click of her heels, Red left.

Sara looked up into the mirror, seeing herself. Too thin, limp brown hair, dull brown eyes. She felt a sob lodge itself in her throat.

"Fuck." She whispered. Standing erect, she grabbed her purse and hurriedly left the washroom.

--

Sara became aware of a large hand grabbing her bicep; which made her also aware she had left the restaurant.

"Sara," Said a familiar male voice. "Are you alright?"

Her smile was forced, but only those who knew her would know. She turned and looked into confused brown eyes.

"I'm okay Josh. I just need some air." Sighing, she leaned against the restaurants brick wall.

Josh let his hand linger on her arm until Sara subtly moved it away.

His hand dropped to his side. "You ran out of there pretty quick. Are you sure you're alright?"

Sara suddenly felt exhausted.

"I think I'm going to call a cab home."

"I can drive-"

"Josh, please don't." Something in her voice made him pause.

He said nothing, only stared at her.

"I'm sorry." He watched her mouth form the words.

"Okay." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Sara twisted her lips, feeling regret. Josh was a really good guy. He was attractive, with his dark eyes and dark hair. He was very nice. He was also young.

Sara inwardly laughed. He was probably five years older than her.

But it wasn't enough.

"Go on. I'll be fine here," Josh looked at her with indecision, "Come on, don't let me ruin your night."

"You're not."

Sara briefly closed her eyes. She wished he wasn't so kind.

"If you stay out here, you'll make me feel really guilty. Go on. Tell Carly and Simon I'm sorry for leaving, but I'm not feeling well."

Sara honestly wanted to be alone. She opened her cell phone, dialing the first cab company she could remember.

"Okay." Josh said in defeat, disappointment evident on his face.

"I'm sorry, Josh." She reached out to lightly touch his arm.

"No worries." His smile was sour. He turned to leave. Looking back he opened his mouth as though to say something.

"Go." Sara whispered.

He nodded, retreating. Sara turned to stare at the Las Vegas blinking lights. Inward she fought a battle.

She was furious with herself, for reacting the way she had. She wasn't dating Grissom. She had no hold over him whatsoever.

She'd been on a date herself for God's sake. A double date.

The burning in the pit of her stomach made it known that even though she knew these things, it didn't matter. It felt like betrayal. She lifted a trembling hand to hook chestnut hair behind her ear. Staring at the hand, her eyes narrowed.

She couldn't keep letting him do this to her.

If she does, he'll ruin her.

Slowly, she became aware of a presence behind her.

She sighed, expecting her bitter date. She turned with more excuses on her lips.

The excuses died as she faced the man who caused her so much elation, pain and torment.

"Grissom." She breathed.

"Sara." His blue eyes ran over her face.

Sara turned to stare at something past his shoulder.

"What do you want?" She asked more harshly than she meant.

"Sara…"

"What?"

"Look at me." Something in his voice made her.

His face was unreadable. His head was cocked to the side, studying her.

"How did you know I was here?" Sara asked. Her chest felt tight.

"I saw you," he motioned behind himself towards the restaurant, "in there. When you ran out I-" he paused, and then sighed. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Sara laughed humorlessly.

"You ignore me, for the last month, and now you think I should believe you care?" Dismayed she felt tears gather in her eyes.

"Oh, Sara." Grissom stepped forward, lifting a hand as though to wipe away her tears.

"No." She hissed, stepping back.

His hand dropped to his side. For a split second, Sara thought he looked lost. But, looking again, he was unreadable.

"Go away." Sara said between gritted teeth.

When he didn't, she turned to glare at him.

Grissom rubbed a hand through his hair.

"Jesus." He murmured.

Her glare faltered as she noticed how tired he looked. He looked older. Lines drawn where there had been none at work the night before.

"If I knew it was going to be like this…" He trailed off, as though searching for something to say.

She stepped towards him until she her body was inches from his, staring him in the eyes, daring him to back away.

"What...," Her voice was a delicate whisper. "Are you saying you wouldn't have come to my apartment that night?" Her breath trailed on his skin. He shivered slightly. Their eyes caught. Resigned blue fought furious brown.

He backed up, his face filled with regret.

"Sara… you know we…I can't-"

"Yes, I do. I remember that conversation very clearly."

A cab pulled up next to them.

"This is my ride." She cleared her throat, "And you have a date to get back to."

He blanched.

"Sara… I…"

Sara looked at his slouched posture, his eyes searching hers for something to say. She knew anything he would say at that moment would be more than she could bear.

"Please, don't Grissom."

He wordlessly stood watching her open the car door.

As she leaned back into the cab's worn seating, she looked back. She saw him standing where she left him. She could swear he was peering into her soul through the tinted windows.

She gave into her tears.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

A Thin Line

rated: T for now.

Disclaimer: I keep them in my cupboard.

A/N: Thanks to the reveiwers in the last chapter. They were very, very appreciated : D.

--

It was amusing how ironic life could be. Sara was never one to distinguish herself to any particular faith, but a part of her was sure some higher power was taking delight in screwing with her life.

While her personal life was at an all time new low, Sara's work life couldn't have been better (excluding the strained interactions with Grissom, of course). Her cases were solved at alarming speeds. After three weeks of phenomenal case work, Ecklie pulled her into his office for an obligatory, and a somewhat grudging, 'atta girl!'

She couldn't have been more miserable.

Sara desperately wanted a case she could dive into, and forget, even for a little while how low and depressed she had become. And also to forget Red. Her glossy lips and expensive shoes were on her mind constantly. Red had morphed into an alpha female: the woman every heterosexual man would desire. When Sara woke from a dream of d-cupped, long legged, perfectly toned Red with Grissom drooling at her heels, she stuffed her head into her pillow and screamed.

She had never felt so pathetic. In her life she had overcome so many obstacles, and yet somehow getting over Gil Grissom was proving the most difficult one yet.

Sara had defeated every barrier that had stood in her way. No one and nothing held her down. Not her abusive father who repeatedly told her she would amount to nothing. Not her mother, who turned to drinking until the fateful morning she killed her husband. Not the foster homes, where parents and siblings names changed monthly.

She graduated high school early at the top of her class and was given early acceptance to a dozen universities. She worked two jobs and still came out in the top five percent.

She was a fighter, she endured and survived. She worked harder when they said 'no'. A burning desire to prove them wrong was her fuel, her essence, her mantra.

Sara had wondered, briefly, if perhaps it was Grissom's repeated refusals that drove her to quietly pursue him for so many years; that maybe she just really liked chasing the elusive entomologist. But that idea was soon proven false the morning she woke in his arms, and had let herself believe he wouldn't leave her. She had never felt more satisfied and fulfilled as in that one delusional moment.

He had left her that morning, however. He crept out while she pretended to sleep. Pausing on the threshold of her bedroom she could feel his eyes burning into her. It seemed hours before he finally left.

Not long after the night she slept with Grissom, and after she had drunk every drop of liquor in her apartment, she knew she needed a diversion. She got a cat. She named it Asha, which meant 'hope' in Sanskrit Indian. Asha was small, thin and matted when Sara first saw her at the animal shelter. Asha looked unloved and pitiful. Staring up at Sara, her eyes were so sad and forlorn that Sara felt an immediate connection to the small creature. A couple of weeks after taking her home, Asha was reasonably plumper, and her fur was shiny and unmatted. She had taken a liking to cuddling with Sara on her bed, and waking her up in the middle of her sleep. Sara didn't mind, having a little Asha in her life was nice.

Asha, although a dutiful companion that always listened to Sara's rantings when arriving home from work every morning, didn't cure the wound in her heart that was Gil Grissom. Sara was determined to get over him. She was in love with him but she was _sure_ she could fall out of love with him.

At home, alone when she felt her most vulnerable even with Asha curled at her side, Sara fought with herself, trying to think of all the ways she disliked Grissom. These musings often carried over into work. She would continually chant Grissom's faults. Especially when she felt her heart start to beat faster when he stood too close, or when he looked at her softly. Not that she allowed moments like that to happen often anymore.

Since the night they had slept together Sara made huge efforts to avoid Grissom. She only willingly approached him if she had to receive or consult about a case. Even at those sparse meetings she made sure they were never alone.

After the night at the restaurant, Sara doubled her efforts.

In the weeks that followed, Sara and Grissom never spoke of the night at the restaurant to each other directly. The only time they had mentioned it in each others presence was a few days after the fact.

Sara was in the break room reading a forensic journal and drinking coffee when Nick strode in. He sat across from her, opening a bag of food he had brought. Chewing on a sandwich he looked at her thoughtfully.

"So, I was talking to Josh yesterday…"

As Nick spoke, Grissom entered the break room. He nodded to his two CSI's and headed directly for the coffee pot.

Sara had been wondering when Nick would bring it up. Sipping her coffee she avoided his eyes.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh." Nick drawled.

She cleared her throat. "How is he?"

"Sara…he told me you cut out of the date early. What happened?"

Sara glanced past Nick to Grissom. It was taking him a long time to pour a cup of coffee.

She sighed, "I really wasn't feeling well, Nick."

"Yeah, that's what he said." His voice softened, "Look, I'm sorry if I forced you into the date. But I was—I _am_ worried about you." He paused looking a bit unsure, as though trying to decide whether or not to say something. "Do you…have any hobbies? Outside of work I mean."

Sara narrowed her eyes slightly, fighting to keep annoyance out of her voice. "Nick, while I appreciate your concern, please don't. My life may be work orientated but it's not my entire life. Josh is a nice guy, but not for me, okay? And I was feeling sick. It wasn't an excuse to get out of the date early. You know I wouldn't do that." It wasn't a lie, Sara had been feeling ill. The sight of Grissom and Red had made her physically and mentally nauseous.

She momentarily considered telling Nick about Asha, but decided against it. It somehow felt like she would be trying to make excuses for herself, and how she decided to live her life. She didn't want to do that, especially when Grissom was not so subtly eavesdropping.

"Yeah, I know you wouldn't," Nick sat back. "Sorry for prying. But you know me, sometimes I can't help it. I sometimes forget you're not one of my sisters."

"The feeling is mutual, bro." Sara smiled, leaned across the table and swatted Nick's arm lightly. Nick rubbed it as though she had punched him.

She was very aware when Grissom slipped out of the room; his coffee mug sitting on the counter.

That had been a couple weeks ago.

It was a month and a half since she slept with Grissom. It was odd when she thought about it. Sometimes it felt like it had never happened. However, when she came into work and felt the tension and strain it became painfully obvious that it had.

Sara sometimes wondered how much more she could take. If there would ever be an enough for her. And if there was, would she be willing to do something about it?

Could she continue to live her life viewing her desires…desire someone else? Could she watch him fall in love with someone who wasn't her?

She shied away from these thoughts, preferring to distract herself in her work. But work had proved to fail in that, much to her dismay. So she turned to cold cases, which succeeded in keeping her mind occupied for countless hours.

"Sara."

She looked up, surprised as she hadn't heard the door open. Sara was reading through a cold case in the break room. Lying across the couch she crunched on an apple while flipping pages.

"Yeah?"

Greg's voice faded out as she stared at him curiously. Looking at his hair, it wasn't easy to tell if it was supposed to look that way or not, she mused.

"Sara…Are you listening to me?" Greg asked with exasperation.

Sara refocused her eyes. She really needed more sleep if she was contemplating Greg's hair.

"Yeah, yeah of course."

Greg eyed her, looking decidedly unconvinced. "I've been looking _everywhere_ for you."

Sara cocked an eyebrow, "Everywhere?"

"Yeah, you know. The hallway, parking lot…um, by the vending machines. Anyway! That's not the point. Brass tried to page you…but your pager must be off or something 'cause he paged me to find you. Athena Greenman is in interrogation room three."

Looking down at her pager, Sara frowned. A blinking light told her 'Low Battery' in bold letters. Fantastic.

Sighing, she sat up closing the file. Throwing the apple core in the garbage she stood.

Greg turned to leave, but turned back suddenly. "Oh yeah. And I guess Grissom was trying to page you too. He wants you in his office ASAP."

Fricking Fabulous.

--

Grissom's office door was slightly ajar. Sara stood in front of it, seriously debating leaving. Her fight or flight reflex was pointing more to flight the longer she stood there.

Breathing in deeply she knocked on the door lightly.

"Grissom?"

She pushed open the door silently, revealing Grissom. He was standing with her back to her. He was digging through one of his many over stuffed shelves.

Sara found herself mesmerized by his movements. He was fully unaware of her presence, and she basked in his ignorance. Her eyes examined him. His arms flexed as he reached into the back of the shelf. Sara felt her cheeks flush slightly, ashamed for this inadvertent peep show, but she was unable to look away. She hadn't looked at him, really looked at him, in so long. He was water to her extreme thirst.

She jumped suddenly when he turned. He looked genuinely surprised to see her. Sara made herself move, trying to make it seem she had just opened the door.

"Hi." His voice held a twinge of something she couldn't identify.

"Hey." Sara said softly.

He moved to his desk. "Do you need something?"

Sara stared at him, "Um…no. Greg said you wanted to see me."

"Um...yeah. That's right." He said distractedly, flipping through mounds of files on his desk.

"So?"

Grissom looked at her slightly confused for a moment. "Right. I wanted to ask you about the Greenman case."

Sara cocked her head, perplexed. Surely Grissom had heard about Athena Greenman.

"Well, we have Athena Greenman in custody. After I leave here, I'm headed to see her."

"Hm. Good." Leaving his files, he turned giving Sara his full attention which she found a bit unnerving.

"Is that it?"

He looked at her behind his glasses, his expression unreadable.

"Yes."

"Okay." She turned to leave.

"Sara."

She stopped mid step. Looking back, she was startled to see how unsure he looked.

"Yes?"

He stepped closer to her.

Inside, her stomach jumped. In her head she began to chant: _Stubborn, emotionally unavailable, unbelievably frustrating, doesn't love you…_

"We haven't talked about it…but I…" He chewed his lower lip.

Sara was fascinated, not only by his teeth working his bottom lip, but also by how flustered he was.

He sighed, "I've wanted to explain…I want to explain… about that night…at the restaurant…shit..."

Sara was stunned. She had not expected that. She held up a hand, stopping him. "Gris. Please don't."

"But…I really think…"

"Don't. I really do not want to hear about you and other women. Thanks."

He mumbled something, likely her name. His hand lifted, and touched her cheek. Involuntarily she moved her head into the caress. Unwelcome memories tumbled across her mind.

_His eyes held something she'd never seen. If this had been another time she could actually have been frightened. But she wasn't, she grinned at what she saw, knowing he must see something akin in her own. She caught his lips in a kiss, her tongue invading his mouth. She felt slightly barbaric. Leaving his mouth Sara bit down hard on the place where his neck met his shoulder._

She backed up hastily. Looking up at his eyes she saw she wasn't the only one with memories.

She walked backwards quickly. His eyes burned into hers. Breathing heavily, she reached for the door handle. She swung it open, and left.

---

subliminal messege you want to reveiw!..cough...err..

I hope this chapter wasn't too choppy. I tried to make it smooth...but I suppose a writer is their own worst critic. Unless it was crap. Then not.


	3. Chapter 3

A Thin Line

Rated: T for now.

A/N- Thankyou so much to everyone who reveiwed my last chapter. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. Thanks to everyone who's been reading my fic and has stuck around for chapter three, I hope I don't dissapoint. : )

--

Sara's chair squeaked in protest as she leaned back and studied Athena Greenman. Athena was in her early thirties. She was wearing a tasteful blue skirt and top and her platinum blond hair (a shade that could only be created from a bottle) appeared to have been tied back into a pony-tail without much thought. Her two carat wedding ring glittered under the interrogation rooms florescent lights. Toes painted blue peeked out of her sandals. Athena reminded Sara of her second grade art teacher. '_Color in the lines, Sara. Not out.'_ She frowned at the memory. Second grade had not been a good year.

Sara shook her head slightly, refocusing on the interrogation.

"I-I'm still…very shocked about Harry. I just heard about what happened yesterday from Jen." Athena said, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Jen as in Jennifer Kalaski? Harry's sister?" Brass asked leaning forward, his interest peaked.

Athena sniffed and nodded.

Sara felt Brass shift beside her. He looked at the papers lying in front of him. "How long were you and Harry married?"

"Almost two years..." Athena blotted her eyes with a tissue.

Sara leaned forward, studying Athena's face. "When did you separate?"

Athena's voice caught in her throat. "Um, about two months ago."

"But you and Jennifer Kalaski stayed friends after the break up?" Sara inquired.

Athena sniffled lightly, "Jen and I have been friends since college. We've known each other a long time before I married Harry. We wouldn't let the separation come between us."

"Who broke it off?"

Athena looked at Sara, her red-rimmed eyes narrowed. "I don't see how that is any of your damn business."

Brass's smile was sour, "But it is our business, Mrs.Greenman. Please answer the question."

Athena glared at Brass, but he appeared unaffected by the assault. Athena sighed, her shoulders slumping. "He did, okay? He said we weren't right for each other anymore."

"Were you?"

Athena's looked confused, "What?"

"Were you not right for each other?" Sara pressed.

Athena pursed her lips, "We were in love."

Sara looked at her skeptically.

Athena averted her eyes from Sara's. She scraped her nails through her hair, frowning angrily at the kleenex, blackened by tears mixed with mascara, clutched in her hand. "In the beginning, we were so in love. It was everything I wanted. He was so romantic, and caring. I really thought we were soul mates. We got married after two months of dating," Athena dropped the tissue on the table and began fidgeting with her manicured nails. "But, after a while, I don't know…we spent less time with each other. We both had careers that took up so much of our time, so we didn't see each other every day. I thought we were secure, and in love." She paused, sadness etched into her face. "He told me he loved me, but he just couldn't be with someone who was never 'there'" She looked up, staring between Brass and Sara bitterly. "But I guess love wasn't enough."

Sara shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with how close Athena's word's related to her.

"You were angry when he wanted to separate?"

Athena looked at Sara sharply, "Of course I was. Wouldn't you be if the love of your life decided to leave you? That they weren't willing to put in the effort…that _you_ weren't worth the effort?"

"I know I'd fight for it…" Sara murmured, without thinking. She blushed lightly at the admission. Brass glanced at her curiously.

Athena slapped a hand on the table. "I did. I did fight," Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "But…but he wouldn't…"

When Sara felt sympathy well up inside her, she knew she needed to redirect the direction of the interrogation. She inwardly admonished herself for relating herself to the suspect.

"Okay. You were angry when you broke up…but what about after?"

Athena looked at Brass then Sara, her expression becoming defensive. "Excuse me? Are you insinuating what I think you are?"

Neither Brass nor Sara spoke.

Athena gaped. "I cannot _believe_ this! You think _I _killed Harry? Are you fucking _kidding _me?"

"Enlighten us." Brass's voice was solemn.

"I freaking loved that bastard with everything I had!" Athena began earnestly. "Killing him would murder my_ soul_. I'm carrying his damn baby for god's sake!" Athena stumbled to a stop, shocked with what she had divulged. Sara and Brass eyed each other surprised.

"I…um. I...just found out a couple weeks ago."

"Did he know?" Sara asked quietly.

"No." Athena whispered.

Brass considered Athena attentively, "Okay, so, two months ago you guys broke up. Can you tell us what happened a week before Harry was murdered?"

Athena leaned forward, picking up a glass of water off the table and took a sip. After swallowing she began to speak, her tone resigned. "A week before I got a call from Harry. He wanted to meet up with me…he was really insistent." Her voice warbled, "I agreed because I wanted to meet with him too. To-to tell him about the baby face-to-face. He was talking about reconciling…we were supposed to meet tomorrow…" Tears poured down her cheeks. "God, I loved him so much. Who would do this? Who would kill him?" She began to weep into her hands.

Brass cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Okay, Mrs.Greenman. That's it for today. We'll call if we need you to come back in."

Athena nodded, hiccupping around her sobs, her eyes blurred from tears. An officer helped her out of the room.

Sara turned to Brass as the door swung shut.

"What do you think?"

Brass thought for a moment, "I'm not sure. I can see many motives for her to have killed him."

Sara nodded ruefully, "Yeah. And we don't know for sure if he didn't know about the baby. He could've told her he wanted nothing to do with it." She pursed her lips in thought, "But, I just have a gut feeling she's genuine."

Brass stood, stretching his back. "Well, let's not speculate too much. The evidence will answer those questions."

Sara looked up at him oddly, "You sound like Grissom."

Brass shrugged. "I think I'll take that as a compliment."

--

Leaving the interrogation room Sara headed towards the break room. She passed Grissom's office; the office she had run from over two hours before. Glaring at the closed door she swore profanities in her head at the man inside.

He was so damn confusing.

Was he trying to do this to her? To let her think she was getting over him, just to pull her back in? Did he know how screwed up he made her feel when he played these games?

She had lived years without him. She was a tough, independent woman, dammit! No man controlled her! She could _do_ this.

Sara found the break room empty. Sighing she sat down on the couch she had vacated two hours previously. She rubbed her temple with her fingers.

His eyes. In his office his eyes held emotion she had never seen in them before. They were feral and sexual. The thought both terrified and excited her. If he still felt such strong emotions for her…maybe…

She slapped a hand against her forehead. He may lust after her, but lust most definitely does not have a future. It would only end with her heart broken when he tired of her and wanted a newer model.

Sara made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. Looking at her watch she groaned. Shift wouldn't be over for hours and all she could do was wait for lab results.

She dragged out a cold case file, desperate to silence the voices in her head.

God, she needed a drink.

--

"Hm."

Sara looked up, annoyed at the distraction.

"Yes?"

Catherine's face was pure innocence. She grabbed a mug and poured lukewarm coffee into it before speaking.

"Oh, nothing. Just noticing you're looking through a cold case." Catherine sat across from Sara. Taking a sip from her cup, she wrinkled her nose at the taste.

"…and?"

Catherine shrugged, as though disinterested. But Sara caught the glint in her eye. Catherine studied her nails. "Are you alright?"

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Catherine rolled her eyes, no longer having the patience to feign indifference. "I'm an investigator, Sara. I notice things. Like how when something's bugging you, you dig into the cold cases."

"You watch me?" Sara said incredulously.

"Good grief girl, no. I just notice. C'mon, you probably notice a bunch of things about me and the guys. Like how when Warrick is really stressed he starts shuffling a deck of cards. Or when Nicky's really pissed off his accent becomes really pronounced."

Sara thought for a moment. "I suppose."

"See? Okay. Lay it on me."

Sara furrowed her eyebrows, was Catherine serious? "Cath, I really appreciate it but…"

"Look, I know we haven't always gotten along, but you're part of the team. And the team is like my family…so I guess that makes you my sister. My younger, with questionable fashion sister. And you know sisters are notorious for not always getting along." She paused, trying to gauge Sara's reaction. "We don't need to get all 'ya-ya sisterhood' crap, but I'm a good listener."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "'Ya-ya sisterhood'?"

"Ah, whatever. I haven't seen a movie in such a long time. It's the best analogy I can think of. You know what I mean."

Sara was honestly touched by Catherine's effort. "Thanks Cath. I really mean it."

Catherine smiled, her eyes inviting Sara to continue.

"It's really complicated. I…just…I really don't know, Cath. I'm sorry, but I can't talk about it. Not yet, maybe never." Sara paused, "We-" She motioned between the two of them with a hand, "-haven't always gotten along…I mean…" She stopped, unsure what to say.

Catherine nodded. "I understand. You're honest, I respect that. Me and you haven't always clicked, so I understand your hesitancy. Just know I always have an ear to listen. And whatever you say will stay between us."

Sara looked down at her hands. She suddenly felt too emotional to say anything.

Glancing at her watch Catherine grinned, "Well, I should go, Warrick and Nicky should be almost finished with the decomp Gris assigned us."

Catherine stood and smiled at the younger woman. Before she left she patted Sara's shoulder reassuringly.

Sara stared at the file lying in front of her blindly. She choked the emotion welling in her throat. Part of her wanted to run and catch Catherine and spill the skeletons in her closet, but another part of her was stubborn to get through this, to get over Grissom on her own. She had never needed anyone before.

Sara jumped when she felt her pager vibrate against her leg. She half smiled at the name blinking at her.

--

"Awesome! You fixed your pager!" Was the first thing to leave Greg's lips when Sara arrived.

"Yeah."

"I was expecting to have to search for you."

Sara stared at him impatiently. "Greg…did you find something?"

Greg held up his fingers, "These babies are magic."

"Okay, show me some tricks."

Greg leered at her. Smiling, Sara pushed him away playfully.

"Results, Greg. Show me results."

"Fine, fine. I found female DNA on your male vic. And no, before you ask, she's not in CODIS."

Sara thought for a moment. "Anything else?"

"My fingers may be magic, but even they have limits. I'll beep you if I find anything else."

"Make sure to compare the DNA to Athena Greenman."

Greg bowed, "As you wish, m'lady."

Much to his chagrin, Sara patted Greg's spiky locks before she left.

--

The rest of the shift passed uneventfully. Sara had successfully avoided Grissom. She had not seen him once since he had called her to his office. Sara was sure this was mostly because he hadn't stepped out of his office most of the night. At least, if he had she certainly hadn't seen him.

Sara pulled off her jacket as she crossed the parking lot. The morning sun was already broiling, making Sara glad she didn't have to be outside when it reached its scorching high in the early afternoon.

After many false starts and many colorful swear words, Sara's car started. Sighing in relief she made a mental note to take it in to get fixed later that day.

--

"Hi Asha," Sara cooed when she entered her apartment.

Asha skidded to a stop in front of Sara and proceeded to use her leg as a scratching post. Sara brushed her off gently, stroking the kittens head. Asha purred in contentment.

Sara poured herself a glass of red wine. She drank it quickly as she changed into a t-shirt and shorts. Lying down on her bed Asha jumped up curling up in her respective place beside Sara. Sara savored the sleepiness that enveloped her. As exhausted as she was from work, she knew from past experience she wouldn't get to sleep easy without help.

The wine relaxed her muscles and placed a light fog over her senses.

Sleep was easy to find.

--

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

a/n- sorry to anyone who's been waiting for an update...I've started another year of university and it had taken over my life. Hopefully the next update won't take as long...as long as people are till interested. This story has also taken a different turn then I expected. I hope ya'lls like it...and as always I loooove reviews.

---

"What the hell happened?" Grissom asked. His voice was deadly calm, only his eyes betrayed the anger he was restraining. Sara had only seen him like this a couple times. Usually Grissom was ultra-calm; nothing ever seemed to faze him. This unusual display of emotion was rare for stoic Grissom. Despite her current state, Sara found Grissom's anger fascinating.

The question wasn't directed at Sara. Grissom's steely gaze also wasn't directed at her. Both question and subsequent look were directed at the shamefaced male sitting beside Sara.

"Officer McCleary said the scene was cleared…" Nick stared down at his hands, unable to meet his supervisor's eyes. Sara was reminded of a small boy being chastened by his father.

"I realize that and I'll be talking to Jim about it. But where were you when…this happened?"

"The perimeter." Nick mumbled.

Grissom scowled. "I see. You decided to do the perimeter and you sent Sara into the house."

Sara shifted in her seat, feeling the urge to stand up for her friend. "I volunteered to go in." She regretted opening her mouth when Grissom turned to look at her. His face was twisted in displeasure.

"You weren't primary Sara. Nick was."

Sara felt a flash of anger, "Yeah, so what? What was Nick supposed to do? Follow me?"

"He should've made sure the scene was really cleared…"

Sara frowned deeply, "You're joking, right? If I had to have another CSI check every one of my scenes I'd never get any work done. Nick isn't in the wrong here, Grissom. It's a barely trained police officer who made a mistake."

Grissom paled slightly, "You call that a mistake? Sara you could've been _killed_…"

"Guys!" Grissom and Sara cut off abruptly and turned to look at Nick. Nick was sitting straight, his previous cowed demeanor left behind.

"I'm sorry Grissom that I sent Sara into the house. I didn't know the scene wasn't clear. You think I'd intentionally put her in any danger?" Nick's accent had thickened, his eyes held a haunted look, as though imagining what might have happened if Sara had been left alone for another minute. "But with all due respect boss, I really don't think you're giving Sara enough credit. She's no weakling Gris. As they say, you shoulda seen the other guy." Nick grinned at Sara.

Sara felt like grinning herself. She was morbidly proud of herself for the violence she had been able to bestow on her attacker before he fled.

Grissom sat behind his desk and breathed in deeply. He was quiet for a moment, when he looked up Sara could tell he had a better hold on his anger. He looked at Sara, eyeing her swollen cheek.

"Are you alright…really?" Grissom's voice was softer, more controlled.

Sara tried to smile. She was sure it looked worse then it was. Her right cheek was puffy and starting to bruise, displaying interesting colors.

"I'm fine," Grissom pursed his lips. "Really." Sara emphasized.

Grissom leaned back in his chair, "I think we should take you off the case."

Sara blinked. "Excuse me? You're not serious."

"Sara, it's for your safety…"

"That's bull! I was a random target. You know that. The guy was just looting the house."

"At least take some time off…"

"No, Grissom." Sara crossed her arms stubbornly.

Grissom considered her for a moment, he sighed in defeat, "Okay, fine. Sara you have to fill out some paperwork on the assault. Then, I guess, you guys get back to work on the case."

--

"Nice shiner."

Sara cocked her left eyebrow.

Greg winked, "A good punch makes a man outta you, as my Papa Olaf says."

"Um…okay."

"Makes you look dangerous. Like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill."

Sara gave a lop-sided smile, "I guess that's better than abused girlfriend."

Greg watched Sara doctor her coffee. "So, the way I hear it through the rumor mill, you've joined a lesbian biker gang."

Sara choked on a mouthful of coffee. "What?"

"Evidently someone in your lesbian biker gang tried to rearrange your face. It's not true? Damn…" Greg sighed dramatically. "Can we pretend it is? It's just so hooot…"

Sara threw her empty sugar packets at Greg's head.

--

The end of shift came quickly, much to Sara's relief. Though she wouldn't admit it to anyone the right side of her face had become quite painful. She was looking forward to going home, taking some painkillers and hopefully sleep.

But her vehicle was having other ideas.

"God damned piece of fricking crap…" Sara growled as her car sputtered and died. She had, of course, forgotten to take the car in to be fixed. She slammed the steering wheel with the palms of her hands. "God Dammit!"

She screeched in surprise when someone knocked on her door window. Cranking the window open she turned a hairy eyeball on the intruder.

"What?"

"Would you like a ride?" Grissom asked.

"No."

"Sara…"

"I'm fine! She's just temperamental; she just needs to be…encouraged." Sara turned the ignition again, and again it remained lifeless. Her face throbbed. "You damn bitch."

Grissom fought his lips from tilting into a smile. "C'mon Sara."

Sara eyed him for a moment. "Fine." She huffed, unfastening her seatbelt.

They were at a red light when Grissom spoke.

"Listen, I'm sorry about earlier." He paused. "It's just…seeing you hurt…like that. I wasn't prepared."

The silence stretched until Grissom was certain Sara wasn't going to respond. He pulled up to her apartment building. When Sara didn't move to open the door, Grissom looked over at her. She was staring at her hands.

"It's nice to know you still care." She murmured.

Grissom's jaw clenched, "Of course I care."

Sara looked at him then, her eyes shining with pain. "Could have fooled me."

Grissom averted his eyes. Silence enveloped them.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this."

Grissom felt his chest tighten. "What do you mean?"

Sara looked at him. She fought with herself, should she say what was burning on her lips to be let out? Before she could properly consider the consequences the words spilled out.

"Us, Grissom. This thing between us. Don't pretend you don't feel it. You may say you don't want me…that what happened between us was a one time thing…but I can see it in your eyes. Sometimes I have trouble understanding why you fight this so much."

"Sara…" He warned.

"Tell me why."

"You know why."

"Our jobs? Our age?"

"Yes!"

Grissom ran his hands through his hair, sudden anger making his movements harsh.

"Do you know what a relationship between us would do to our reputations? It could ruin our careers. How can I not think about that?" He growled in the back of his throat. "How can I not have a problem with our age difference, Sara?" His voice was pained. "How can I not think of how…how when I lost my virginity, you were three years old? Or when you were learning addition, I was preparing my entomology dissertation. I'm not a young man, Sara. One day, a younger better man will come along…" He trailed off. Grissom turned away from her, staring out the window. "How can I not think of how much sooner I'll die before you? Is that fair to you? I can't do that. I can't." He slumped in his seat. His face was sharp angles of torment.

Sara was quiet for long moments before she spoke. "Do you think less of me because of my age?"

Grissom's head snapped up, he looked at her in shock. "What? No!"

Sara's mouth was a thin line, "You think because I'm younger, I wouldn't take a relationship with you seriously? You think this is some sort of hero-worship... that my feelings will go away if I'm with you?" She snorted. "Grissom, you really need to get over yourself."

Grissom's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand…"

"Of course you don't." Sara snapped. "You think my feelings for you are a little girl's crush. That I'll realize my mistake when a younger man comes along." Grissom gasped when Sara pulled him by his lapels to face her, "What you don't understand Gris is that this is it for me. You are it for me. I'm so fucking in love with you I can barely stand it. How can I make myself any clearer to you?"

Grissom stared at her, completely and utterly dumbfounded.

"You think I wanted this?" Tears tracked angry trails down her cheeks. "You think I wanted to be in love with my boss? You think I _don't_ know what a relationship between us would do to our reputations? You are so damned frustrating. You're older, so what? Maybe you'll die before me, maybe I'll die tomorrow. Are you seriously using that as an excuse? Shouldn't I get a say in this? You say you can't be with me because you're so certain it'll end in tragedy…but what about now? What about what you're doing to my heart _right now_, Grissom?" She clutched a hand over her heart. "It feels…it feels…Horrible. I haven't even had you and my heart is shredding."

Sara waited for him to respond, but he couldn't. He stared at her speechlessly.

"Tell me you don't love me, Grissom. Tell me you don't." She closed her eyes, tears slipped between her eyelashes. "Please tell me. If you don't…m-maybe this won't feel so terrible. Please."

Grissom could barely comprehend her request. "I…what?"

"Please." She whispered. She opened her eyes to stare into his. Grissom found it very difficult to turn away from the liquid chocolate depths.

"Sara…" His voice hitched in his throat. He could do that, couldn't he? For her? "I…I…I can't do that." Shame flooded him. He looked away from her pleading brown eyes.

"But you don't want to be with me." Her voice was resigned.

Grissom's mouth twisted in anguish. Did he want to? Of course he did. "No."

Silence reigned for long moments.

"I'm not a religious person Grissom." Sara began, her voice losing the huskiness it had a moment before. "I'm not. But since the night we spent together… every morning I wake up without you, I pray to any god that this burning…hole…you left in me will disappear." Sara grabbed the door handle. "But it hasn't, Gris. It's only gotten worse." She tugged the door open, preparing to flee.

Grissom grabbed her arm. "Sara…"

Sara turned to him, tears shone in her eyes. "Don't play games with me Gris. Getting over you may be the hardest thing I've ever tried to do…but I can do it. I can." She paused, "And by then… it really, truly will be too late."

Sara left him sitting alone in the vehicle. He stared after her even when she had disappeared from sight. He sat there for several minutes before he turned on the ignition and navigated back to his town house. When he got home he could barely remember driving there.

_---_

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- Thanks soo much for the reviews! You guys seriously rock : ) And thanks to everyone for reading...hope you enjoy the chapter!

rating reminder- T for now

--

"You're freaking kidding me."

"I try not to kid my patients." He deadpanned. "For some reason the medical board doesn't like that." He paused for a moment, "No pun intended by the way."

"Oh my god." She buried her face in her hands.

"Not the news you were expecting, I take it." Dr. Slemski said seriously.

Sara peeked at him between her fingers. "No."

"So this was unplanned."

"Your powers of observation astound me." Sara groaned.

Dr. Slemski looked at her for a moment. "There are different options of how to deal with this." His voice was calm. Unjudgemental.

Sara looked at him, uncomprehending.

"You're a professional woman. I get that. Many women in professions dominated by men are unwilling to have children. Don't think you're alone in this, Sara. However, if you choose to have an abortion it needs to be done before your second trimester. Or adoption, which is another option, now if you…" He was cut off by Sara sputtering.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait! I…I …you just tell me that I'm…that I'm…" She breathed in deeply. "And you expect me to make a decision now? Can't I…have some time to think about this?"

"Of course. I wouldn't recommend anyone making such an enormous decision without careful and thorough thought."

"O-okay…then."

"Let's make an appointment for next week."

"Yeah, sure."

Dr. Slemski turned away for a moment shuffling through some papers, he turned back holding brochures. "What I said before about you not being alone considering your pregnancy also stands for other…issues." He handed her the brochures.

Sara looked at the brochures reading, 'A Guide for Battered Women: What Should You Do Next?', 'Domestic Violence- No One Deserves to be Beaten', and 'You Are Not Alone: Domestic Violence Counseling.'

Sara gaped at the brochures, then at the doctor.

"I know this can be difficult, but there are groups that can help." Dr. Slemski said gently.

Thoroughly confused, Sara asked, "What are these for?"

He looked at her calmly, his expression one of infinite patience. "You aren't alone Sara. You don't have to suffer in silence from abuse."

"I…what?"

"There are support groups to help you through this. I also strongly recommend you seek help if you decide to have the baby."

"What the hell are you taking about? Abuse?"

He looked pointedly at her cheek. "This is purely confidential, Sara."

"Oh my god. You think I'm being abused."

Dr. Slemski looked at her meaningfully.

Sara raked her fingers through her hair. "I can assure you, without a doubt, at this point in my life, I am most definitely not being physically abused…by anyone. This," she gestured to her bruised cheek, which has turned several shades of yellow. Sara had tried to cover it with make up, but obviously she'd failed miserably. "is not that. About a week ago I went to work a scene. I was told it'd been cleared. It wasn't. A looter had broken in and was stealing a television when I came in. He attacked me. My partner was able to get to me in time before anything…serious happened."

Dr. Slemski looked at her, considering her story. "You're not lying, are you?"

"Jesus, no. Look, I lived with domestic abuse when I was a kid. I know first hand what happens to women in that situation. I'd never let myself be in a relationship like that. If a guy ever…tried to do that to me…well... Let's just say I know how to get rid of a dead body." She tried to smile.

Dr. Slemski eyed her for a moment, "Okay. I'll take that last bit as a joke. Sorry for the misunderstanding…but you have no idea how many women I see with bruises like yours are being abused, but won't admit it."

"Me too."

He nodded and then stood. "Okay, I think that's it for today. Make an appointment at the front with the receptionist for next week."

Sara blinked. The pregnancy. Right. With all the abuse confusion Sara had completely forgotten about the baby. She frowned. She'd only known at the pregnancy for less then half an hour, and already she had forgotten. What a fantastic mother she would make.

--

Sara stood in front of her mirror. Turning to the side she lifted her shirt. Her stomach was flat, not revealing the life that was growing within.

Could she be a mother? She had never had a real mother figure in her life. Her mother had spent most of Sara's youth drunk or absent until she was locked in jail. Sara had become hard and independent; especially when she was living in foster care. Her foster mothers were all different, some bad, some okay. None of them had provided Sara with a sturdy model of what a mother should be.

Sara had the idealistic view of a mother caring for her child first, in all matters. Could she do that? With her job? Catherine somehow managed to keep her job and care for her daughter. Was Sara as strong as Catherine?

Tears slipped down her cheeks unbidden. Pulling her shirt down, Sara left the washroom. She didn't have time to think about…the pregnancy. She had to go to work.

--

Okay, so not thinking about it was easier said than done.

"Earth to Sara," Nick waved a hand in front of her face. Sara jumped, startled.

"Sorry, I just kind of spaced out for a minute."

"So I gathered." Nick smiled. "You want to sit in on the interrogation?"

Sara looked at Nick in confusion. Interrogation? What interrogation? Surely she must know this…

"Erm…who are we interrogating again?"

Nick stared at her oddly. "John Leenman, Harry Greenman's best friend."

Sara mentally slapped her forehead. Of course.

"Right, I knew that." She flushed in embarrassment

--

John Leenman was of average height, had dark squinty eyes, and 100 pounds over weight.

"Nasty bruise, boyfriend trouble?"

Sara was becoming fed up with everyone thinking her boyfriend (if she had one) used her as a punching bag. If she were male, a bruise like hers would be worn as a badge of honor. A female was instantly labeled as a victim of violence from her spouse.

Sara smiled cordially at the greasy haired man. "I'm in a lesbian biker gang. We have nasty lesbian biker orgies every night, sometimes it gets a bit violent."

John stared at her wide-eyed. "Seriously?"

"No."

"That's just mean."

Sara shrugged. "Tell me about Harry."

John leaned back, "Harry was my best friend."

"What was he like?"

"A good guy. I've known him for years." He paused. "Before and after he met Athena." His tone was sharply bitter.

"You don't like her?"

John snorted, "She's a frickin' piece of work. She made Harry her frickin' bitch. Before her he had a backbone, but after he was a frickin' pansy. If I hadn't known him before, I'd probably never have been friends with him."

"But they split up."

"Yeah, when Harry started to stand up for himself, Athena didn't like that."

"Did Harry ever talk to you about meeting with Athena to get back together?"

John sighed. "He said something about maybe patching things up with her, but I told him 'Harry, if you frickin' get back together with that bitch you'll 'frickin' regret it'. He stopped talking about it, so I figured he'd decided not to. He didn't say frickin' anything to me about seeing her again after that."

"When's the last time you heard from him?

John thought for a moment. "A few days before Jenn called me to tell me about what happened."

Sara looked at her notes. "Okay, that's it for now. Thanks for coming in."

"No prob," John was almost out of the room when he turned back. "If you need anything else, feel free to call me. I'll do anything to catch the sonofabitch that did this."

--

Sara and Nick faced Grissom from across his desk.

"A bit of a dead end with John Leenman then."

Nick nodded. "Seems so."

Grissom rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Okay. You know the drill, work on your other cases until another lead comes up. Right now both of you go home, get some rest. I'll see you tonight."

"Sounds good." Nick yawned.

Grissom nodded a dismissal to his two CSI's. His eyes strayed on Sara for a long unnecessary moment. Sara stared back at him defiantly until he looked away. She turned feeling a flush high in her cheeks. She was very glad Nick seemed oblivious to the silent interaction that had taken place right in front of him.

Nick and Sara were almost at the door when Grissom called out.

"Sara, can I speak with you a moment?"

Sara looked back at Grissom, her face blank. She quietly told Nick to wait for her outside.

"Is this about a case?" Her voice was neutral.

"No."

"Anything work related?"

"No…Sara…"

"Then I don't think we have anything to discuss here." She turned to leave.

"Sara please." His voice was slightly desperate.

Her voice gained a sharper edge, "Is this about wanting to be with me?"

"No. I just…" He began, "I just…want to know how you are." He finished lamely.

Sara looked at him for a moment, her features distorted in disapproval. "We have nothing to talk about here." She turned on her heel, and left the room.

Sara linked an arm through Nicks as they walked down the CSI corridor leading to the parking lot. "Feel like some breakfast?"

--

When Sara got home she immediately changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt. Yawning she took a glass from her cupboard while stroking a purring Asha.

She grabbed a bottle of red wine, pouring a liberal amount into the glass, she yawned again.

She was about to take a sip when she tore it away from her lips. Her fingers had slackened, the glass slipped through her fingers and shattered on the hardwood floor.

Sara stared in horror at the glittering crimson mess. Oh god. Oh god. Her mind whirled until she felt dizzy. Leaning on the counter she took several deep breaths.

How much had she drank since she'd become pregnant? What irreversible damage has she inflicted on a life she hadn't known about?

Sara looked again at the broken glass. What a terrible mother she'd make. It wasn't even born and she might have already ruined its life.

"No Asha!" Sara quickly jumped over the glass, picking up the cat which had been pawing a sharp piece.

After depositing Asha into Sara's room and closing the door, Sara cleaned the shards from the floor.

Sitting on the floor, Sara leaned against the counter, her face buried in her hands. A choked sob escaped her throat.

--

tbc

a/n- Sorry to Midnight-Psychotics and anyone else who didn't want Sara to be pregnant. It actually surprised me that she is; when I started to plan this story I was very sure she wouldn't be. But my muse has taken over. I definitely know where this story is leading, so updates should be more frequent (I say now, but University has taken over most aspects of my life...). Anyways, thanks for reading : ) And as always, reveiws warm my heart : )


	6. Chapter 6

A/N- Hello readers! I am very, very sorry this took so long to get out. University has been a major bitch...and it has taken over my life. Hopefully those of you who've been reading this, remember this story. Sorry for such a long delay...

Rated: Strong T people!

--

The rain struck the window, creating a tap dance of an uneven tempo.

Sara's eyes were drawn to the window. It was perhaps symbolic, she thought, that it would rain. Only an hour ago it had been blue skies and a shining sun.

Sara rolled her left shoulder, trying to work out an irritated muscle, she hissed as her raw wrists rubbed against the rope binding her hands behind her back. Sara sighed, her shoulder unabated, leaning back against the wall behind her. Her legs stretched out in front of her, the convenience stores cool flooring had leeched her warmth away over the past hour.

Shifting her head to the right, Sara tried to smile at the mother and son sitting a foot away. The mother and child grasped each other, desperate to hold onto the one thing that let them feel a false security.

There were three others then herself, the mother and son sitting on the convenience store's floor. A teenage boy who made Sara increasingly nervous as time passed; he had become jittery in the last half hour, making Sara fear he was going to try to do something very stupid. An older lady whom was quite collected, her lips a thin line, her eyes alert and aware of every movement. Lastly, the aged man whom had been manning the counter; he had a nasty black eye appearing. When his store was first being robbed, he had tried to attack the perpetrators, which only resulted in a fist to the eye and a crunching kick to the shin.

Sara had deduced that the two males who stalked around the store were probably in their early twenties. They both wore ski masks, but their movements and voices belied their ages. The shorter one, who Sara guessed was the older of the two, had already chain smoked through almost three packs of cigarettes.

It was probably supposed to be a simple robbery, Sara snorted inwardly, simple robbery indeed. However, it quickly snowballed into something neither robber had obviously anticipated. The aged clerk had hit a silent alarm before being kicked to the floor, resulting in three police cars, and more coming outside the store's front door.

Sara's eyes were again drawn to the window. Something in the harsh tune of the rain comforted her. She felt it was hugely ironic, that she a highly educated (and at times, she felt, highly underpaid) crime scene investigator could possibly meet her end in a convenience store by two punk kids with guns looking for cash. Sara had seen how much they grabbed from the till…probably not even a hundred dollars.

She closed her eyes for a moment. She really didn't need the milk or eggs. It was just a whim to turn off to the convenience store…

"_You're sure this is what you want to do?"_

_Sara clasped then unclasped her hands. "Yes."_

_Dr. Slemski nodded, "Okay."_

"_I…I've thought about it. And that's what I decided." She glanced away from his warm gaze._

"_Okay." He repeated._

Sara blinked sharply when the yelling began.

"God damned fucking geezer pressed the fucking button!" Chain-smoker shouted into his accomplices face.

"That doesn't mean we can kill him, man! Fucking hell..."

"I can damn well do whatever the hell I want."

"Goddammit… we can't start killing people, Harry! I'm not going to jail!"

Harry grabbed the other ski-masked man by the front of his shirt, "Don't fucking use my damn name! God, have you ever seriously done this before?" His cigarette hung from his lips, at that moment forgotten.

"Jesus Christ, Harry…have you looked outside? They're fucking cops everywhere!"

Sara watched the exchange curiously. Her money was on the unnamed one cracking first.

"This is all his damn fault." Harry punctuated his statement by pointing his gun at the clerk. Sara heard the others gasp around her, the clerk mewled pathetically, tears of appeal dripping down his cheeks.

"Harry, put that down, man. You fucking want to go to jail for the rest of your life?"

Harry had stopped listening to the other man. His arm hold the gun had started to tremble, not from fatigue or fear as Sara first thought, but rage.

"If you hadn't…hadn't pushed the fucking…button…" he cocked his gun, causing the mother next to Sara to cry out.

"Harry?" Sara's voice was calm, neutral. She hadn't realized she had spoken until Harry's gaze was driven from the clerk to her. Harry stared at her stunned for a moment, as though he had forgotten there were other hostages in the store.

"Come on, Harry. You don't want to do this."

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what I want to do?"

"My name is Sara, Harry. I just want to help everyone get out of here alive."

"I say who lives or dies!"

Sara nodded, keeping eye contact. "Yes, you do."

Harry's gun was trained on her, but lax.

"Harry, there are a lot of cops outside. You know you won't be able to get away. You will be going to jail, Harry, but right now you can decide whether it's for only a couple years, or for life. Life is a long time Harry, and you're very young."

Harry's accomplice shifted to stand next to Harry. "She's right, Harry. Let's just surrender, man."

Harry ignored the unnamed man, glaring at Sara. Harry stiffened his hand. "Are you a fucking cop?"

"No."

"Are you lying to me, bitch?"

"I am not a cop."

Harry growled out another profanity.

"Think about what you're willing to lose here, Harry. A few years, or the rest of your life?"

The unnamed man walked to the stores front window, peering out. "Fuck, Harry! There's six police car out there!"

"Please Harry, let everyone go home." Sara blinked back the tears she felt burning behind her eyes.

Harry stared at her for another moment, studying her eyes as though they would hold what path he should take. He was giving in…she could feel it. He was giving in.

And that was when it all went to hell.

"_Okay, Ms. Sidle. I'm going to start you on a prescription 400 micrograms_ _of folic acid to take daily."_

_Sara nodded, taking the small piece of perscription paper from the doctor._

"_I want you to come in for your next checkup in four weeks, does that work for you?"_ _Dr. Slemski looked up at her, his eyes questioning._

"_Yeah…um, I'll work it out." _

_He smiled kindly, "Everything will be alright, Sara."_

_Sara smiled back, timidly. "I think it will, too."_

It was almost like slow motion. But she couldn't do anything to stop it. Everything happened so fast.

One minute Sara was certain Harry was going to give up, the next moment the teenage boy had leapt up trying to grab the gun from Harry's grasp.

A shot sounded.

Sara felt burning…a burning pain.

Several voices screamed and cried out…and a door was kicked in.

Her vision dimmed.

Then nothing.

--

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

a/n- Hello readers! I am absolutely blown away from the response from my last chapter...really, really awesomely fabulous...all you guys really humble me and are great motivators for getting chapters out. I didn't want to make you guys wait to see what happened...and I figure it's the holidays ; ) I gotta be nice somehow. Happy Holidays!!

rated: T

--

Gil Grissom was a patient man.

Not only patient in adulthood, but he could recall his mother commenting on how amazingly calm and introspective he was as a child.

While some of his mother's friends looked upon him with a critical eye: _such an odd boy you have, Maggie. The other day I saw him poking at a dead squirrel…_ His mother would always smile kindly, and explain through her fluid fingers that he was a special boy; and his uniqueness would make him something great someday.

Yes, Gil Grissom was a patient man.

Every ounce, every drop of patience that defined the enigma Gil Grissom was quickly discarded after he received the phone call from the hospital. If asked, later he would be hard pressed to accurately remember how he came to the hospital…but he was suddenly there, the journey a blur.

After an hour of badgering nurses and doctors for information about Sara's condition, he was respectively, but forcibly told if he kept bothering the staff he'd be asked to leave.

The waiting room became a cage. Grissom stalked back and forth, not caring other occupants waiting for news of their own loved ones seemed disconcerted by his aggressive movements.

He knew nothing. Nothing about what happened, or how badly she was hurt.

_Grissom sighed, pressing the phone to his ear._

"_Gilbert Grissom?" The voice was thin and reedy. _

"_Yes?" He said briskly. _

"_Dr. Grissom…you're the emergency contact for a Sara Sidle…"_

_Grissom stopped all movement. The papers on his desk forgotten._

"_What…Has something happened? Is Sara alright?"_

_A pause. _

"_Mr. Grissom, Ms. Sidle has been injured…She was brought in twenty minutes ago."_

_His hands were clammy. "Where?"_

Grissom had held off calling the team. He didn't want to worry them…a doctor would have told him if she was horribly injured…

…wouldn't they?

No need to worry the team, or take them away from their work if it's something minor…

…right?

Grissom rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was having trouble thinking logically.

They didn't say anything about her condition on the phone other then that she was 'injured'. They would have told him if she was mortally wounded…if …if she was lying on her death bed.

They would have told him.

Wouldn't they?

Oh God.

Grissom sat down, his stomach tied in painful knots. A pain behind his eyes told him a migraine was on the horizon.

How long he sat, he didn't know. But through the haze of his storming thoughts he heard someone call his name.

"Mr. Grissom?"

Grissom sprang from his seat, his sharp blue eyes trained on the doctor before him.

"How is she?"

The doctor smiled thinly. "Not completely out of the woods yet, but better. She just got out of surgery…"

Grissom gaped. "Surgery...what…?"

"No one came to tell you? I thought I…I'm sorry to be the one to tell you but Ms. Sidle was shot. The bullet was caught in her right shoulder. It didn't hit anything major, so taking the bullet out was not very difficult."

"Sara was _shot_?!"

The doctor stared at Grissom a moment. "Ms. Sidle is, at the moment, doing fine, Mr. Grissom. I was actually more concerned about the baby…stress like that can be fatal for a fetus, especially one as young as hers. But for now, it seems mom has a tight hold onto it. Ms. Sidle's gynecologist, Dr. Slemski, will be coming in to check her out but I think she…"

Grissom blinked, slowly. The doctor's words blurred, forming incomprehensible sentences. Eventually, the doctor patted Grissom on the arm in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring manner, then left.

What?

What?!

_What the fuck?!_

_--_

Sara dreamed.

_Catherine danced around a crime scene in a tutu._

_Warrick and Nick, both shirtless, examined a body Sara couldn't see._

"_It is tragic, isn't it?" Nick said, poking the body's midsection._

_Warrick took a long drag on a cigarette. "Yeah, but y'know we all saw it coming."_

_Nick nodded, "True."_

_Sara stepped closer to the scene. Her steps were weightless. Standing behind the two men, she gasped, her hand covering her mouth._

_It was her; her dead body sprawled on the ground. Her chest was a bloody mess. Her ribs broken outward like something had exploded within her._

"_Sara?"_

_She turned, eyes widening. Grissom stood behind her, his blood stained hands holding something._

_Sara felt bile in the back of her throat. _

_It was her heart. Her beating heart._

"_Sara?" His eyes implored hers. He looked regretful. "I didn't know you would bleed this much." Grissom stared at the organ in his hands fondly, "It is fascinating though, don't you think?"_

Sara sat up, gasping. Her face covered in sweat. She grabbed at her chest, feeling her racing heart.

Then she felt the pain.

Her right shoulder burned in agony, she leaned over moaning. Several minutes later of deep breathing the pain had subsided to a bearable throb. Sara gingerly sat back, taking in her surroundings.

She was in a hospital. The memories of the convenience store came back in an overpowering force.

Harry must have shot her.

Details were fuzzy, she couldn't remember how or why. But she remembered a shot being fired, then darkness.

Another thought occurred to her.

Oh no. Oh God.

Her throat tightened, her breathing quickened.

She leaned over pressing the call button over and over until a nurse came.

"Glad to see you're awake. And for future reference, you really only need to press it once, Ms. Sidle." The nurse paused, taking in Sara's distraught face. "Are you alright?"

"My baby?" Sara's voice was harsh. "Is my baby…?" Sara felt tears building in her eyes.

The nurse stepped forward, an understanding smile playing on her lips. "Your baby is fine."

Sara covered her face with her hands wincing at her protesting shoulder, she shuddered, her relief palpable.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Sara felt the nurse leave.

Tears slipped down Sara's cheeks. "Thank you."

--

Grissom called the team.

He could vaguely recall their worry and concern learning of Sara's condition, and promises from all to be there as soon as possible.

They were concerned about her condition of being shot…not the other thing.

Grissom couldn't say it. Not because it wasn't his secret to tell, but because saying it would make it real.

Grissom didn't know what to think, or how to deal with this.

Had he imagined the doctor saying that? He hadn't properly slept in three days…

Grissom sighed; he knew he hadn't imagined it. At least he was mostly sure.

Questions ran through his mind, questions upon questions.

How long had she known?

Is she okay?

Is the baby okay?

Is…is that baby his?

_Is her baby his?_

Standing outside her hospital room, the last question rang through his mind. His emotions so convoluted and confused he couldn't possible decipher what he was feeling.

He breathed in deeply, and stepped into the room.

She was sleeping. Her dark hair splayed across her pillow, her face pale. She was almost gaunt…much to skinny to be carrying a child.

_His child?_

Grissom shook his head sharply. Sitting in a chair facing her bed he continued his study if her.

He then noticed the drying tracks of tears running down her face. Grissom reached out to touch her face, but pulled back when she shifted in her sleep. His eyes were then drawn to the bandaged on her right shoulder.

Grissom's eyes burned staring at the bandages. She had been inches away from death.

Grissom tentatively reached out again, softly taking her left hand in his. He watched her face closely. When he was sure she wasn't going to wake up he fully enveloped her smaller hand in his larger one.

And like that he sat. Watching her sleep.

--

Having cried herself to sleep, Sara hadn't realized she had actually fallen asleep until she woke.

And she acutely aware she wasn't alone.

Looking to her left, she was met with a bewildering scene. Grissom was holding her hand, his head lying on her bed, and was softly snoring.

Sara found the sight utterly endearing. She desperately wanted to ran a hand through his hair, but found her left hand very occupied and her right one couldn't move without flaring pain in her shoulder.

It was probably for the best that she couldn't, anyways. It most likely wouldn't be healthy for her emotional being to indulge in his hair and another reason being he had woken up just as she was thinking this.

His blue eyes were foggy with sleep. Sara beat down a smile at his befuddled look at waking up in an odd place. He looked up at her and she could tell he remembered.

"Sara…"

"Um, hi."

Grissom, as though noticing he still held her hand, tore it out of her grip at though she burned. Sara bit the inside of her cheek, the absence of his warmth made her feel cold, and alone.

"Are you alright?" He was completely alert now.

"I think so…the nurse said everything…appears fine."

Grissom nodded, "Good, good."

"How long have you been here?"

Grissom glanced at his watch, his brows furrowing. "Uh, not long. Can you tell me what happened?"

Sara sighed. "I was at a convenience store, some kids came in with guns, and the clerk had a silent alarm. Cops came. The kids kind of freaked out. One thing led to another, and here I am." She tried to smile. But Grissom's solemn features made her look away.

A soft knock at the door averted both of their gazes. A nurse bustled in smiling kindly.

"Feeling better, Ms. Sidle?"

Sara nodded. "The drugs have helped quite a bit…I know I asked before, but you're sure their okay with…" Sara glanced at Grissom, flushing slightly.

The nurse nodded. "I assure you, they're fine. And how are you doing Mr. Grissom?"

Grissom opened his mouth to answer, but Sara overrode him.

"It's actually Dr. Grissom." Sara murmured, flushing again when the nurse and Grissom looked at her.

"My apologies, how are you Dr. Grissom?"

Grissom stared at Sara thoughtfully for a moment before turning to the nurse. "I'm fine thank you."

"Well, Sara, if you experience any increased pain remember to press the call button."

With a soft pat on Sara's leg, the nurse left.

They sat in silence for several moments before Grissom spoke.

His voice was slightly detached. "Sara…the doctor, earlier. When I first got here, he told me…"

Sara looked back at him curiously. Grissom stood, running a nervous hand over the back of his neck.

"Sara…I…"

Her face paled. "Is…is something wrong with me?"

Grissom stared at her seriously. "No, nothing is wrong with you…or your baby."

Sara's mouth opened, "Oh." She breathed.

"Yeah."

"I…uh…"

"Sara, I have to ask you something."

"Grissom…"

"Just…please, Sara." His eyes pleaded, she could only nod.

His breathing had quickened, Sara noted. "Is…is it mine?"

Sara stared up at him; emotions ran across her face too fast for Grissom to name. Her lips thinned, her expression became blank and guarded.

"No. It's not."

Grissom took a step back as though something had physically pushed him.

"I…" He began.

"Okay." He took another step back. Should his eyes be burning so badly?

Sara wordlessly stared at him. Her eyes large an emotionless.

"Okay." They doorway was close. It felt as though his chest was full of sharp knives. God, he's going to be sick.

He backed out of the room, tearing his eyes from hers. He turned searching for a washroom, barely noticing when he ran into Nick.

"You alright, Griss?" The Texan asked, concerned at Grissom's ashen face.

"I'm…fine."

Grissom brushed off Nick, desperate to be away.

Far away.

--

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

Hello all! I hope you're all doing well. RL has been a bit trying the past little while, just gotta tell yah, if you're ever trying to get a Spanish visa, they tell you 3-4 weeks, but no, not for me…it's been over three months…grrr…anywho…there's my venting ; ) and here's the latest chapter.

--

Someone was yelling outside her bedroom door.

Sara gingerly shifted her shoulder, wincing as her mending wound stretched slightly. Glancing at the clock on her bedside she grimaced. Damn. She'd only been asleep for an hour. Sara lay still for a few moments, trying to grasp the escaping tendrils of sleep. She groaned as the door to the bedroom next to hers slammed; the sound echoing throughout the house. Admitting defeat, Sara sighed and sat up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stretching her good arm she reached for her sling.

I had been two weeks since she'd been shot. And it has been just over a week since she had been approved to leave the hospital. Before she left, her doctor had strongly advised her to have family, or a friend stay with her until her shoulder healed enough to be of use. Sara had smiled and nodded, but all the while she'd been determined to tough it out on her own. However, alone in her apartment she found herself greatly disabled. Trying to undress for bed, Sara found completing the task near impossible. Feeling helpless, and with her pregnancy hormones on full tilt, she soon had tears streaming down her face. After another pitiful attempt to get undressed, she called the first female she could think of.

"'_Ello?"_

"_C-Cath?"_

"_Sara?" _

"_Yeah…"_

"_Are you alright?" Concern coated Catherine's voice._

_A choked sob._

"_I…I can't get my shirt off." _

_Silence._

_A giggle._

"_Are you laughing at me!?" _

"_No…" Another giggle. "Of course not, Sara." A laugh._

"_Obviously this was a mistake." Sara huffed. "Goodbye, Cath."_

"_Wait! Sara wait! I'm sorry!" Catherine had stopped laughing, but Sara could still detect mirth under her tone. "I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay?"_

"…_okay."_

After finding Sara close to sobbing in her apartment, Catherine insisted she come stay with her. Sara adamantly refused, but Catherine had already started packing Sara's bags, completely ignoring the brunette.

She had been living with Catherine and Lindsey for a week. One long, exhausting week. Not that her hosts had been horrible to her, Catherine was certainly a help with Sara's dressing issues, but having lived alone since University, Sara had forgotten what it was like to actually live with another person. Not just another person, but another person and a teenager.

A teenager who was a major handful.

Lindsey was a good kid, most of the time. Sara thought Lindsey really liked to pull at her mother's strings. Doing things Catherine disapproved of just to get a rise out of her. Sara usually found this amusing, but when she was trying to sleep…not so much.

Sara softly opened her bedroom door; she could hear Catherine loading the dishwasher. Sara followed the kitchen light, stopping to study the blonde. Catherine turned, hearing Sara's footsteps.

"We woke you up, didn't we?"

"No." Sara lied. She shifted uncomfortably under Catherine's scrutiny. "Well, maybe sort of. It's alright."

Catherine sighed, pressed a palm to her forehead. "I just don't know what to do with that child sometimes. An hour past curfew and she acts like it doesn't matter…" Catherine grabbed a washcloth from the sink and began to scrub the counters viciously.

Sara sat on a stool at the breakfast bar and watched her silently.

"She's a good kid, Cath." Sara said eventually breaking the quiet, repeating her thought from earlier.

Catherine stopped scrubbing, tossing the cloth back into the sink. Again she sighed, taking a seat by Sara. "I know…but sometimes she can be so difficult."

Sara nodded, as though she understood, but feeling like a fraud. What did she know about raising children?

Sara noted the fatigue set around Catherine's eyes. She knew Catherine was working on a large case, but so far had been unable to convince the blonde to let her help out. Lost in her thoughts, Sara started when Catherine began to speak.

"Sometime…sometimes I feel so lost…being a parent," Catherine's voice took on a softer tone. "Sometimes I have absolutely no fucking idea what I'm doing…and it scares me that I could be screwing her up with my ignorance…y'know…maybe if Eddie were alive…" She trailed off, her eyes a bit unfocused. Suddenly she looked at Sara as though she had forgotten who she was talking to. Catherine stood quickly, "Can I get you anything…tea?"

Sara stared at Catherine for a moment, and then stood shaking her head. "No thanks. I think I'll go back to bed." Sara watched Catherine return to the sink and pick up the washcloth.

Back in her room, Sara crawled under the covers with only minor jarring of her injured shoulder. Laying back she stared at the ceiling.

Catherine's admission of fear was somehow liberating for Sara. Ever since she had decided to have the baby, Sara had been plagued with a gut wrenching fear that she'd be a terrible parent…she hadn't had the greatest examples from her own. But now, knowing Catherine had her own fears in the parenting department, made Sara feel better in an odd way. Sara chuckled to herself, misery loves company.

From what Sara had seen in the past week, Catherine was a good parent to Lindsey. They constantly bickered, but Sara could see the affection they held for each other. Maybe being a single parent wouldn't be so bad…

Sara shifted, sighing as she tried to fight the path of her thoughts. But they always reached their goal, every night…

She hadn't seen Grissom in thirteen days. Sara rolled her eyes, she was actually counting the days, how friggin' pathetic was she?

She could understand his absence. Telling him that the fetus in her belly wasn't his probably filled him with indescribable relief. Sara had seen how pale and haunted he looked in her hospital room before he told her what the doctor had said…

Well, it's perfectly obvious Grissom didn't want any part of her baby, she thought. He wouldn't have been so distant and cold at the hospital before he asked her about the baby if he had wanted the child, he would have been happier.

Yes, she rationalized, this was good. If he didn't want her baby, well, she didn't want him.

And Grissom had made it very clear he didn't want her.

Sara laid a hand on her belly, stroking the tiny swell, wiping an errant tear from her cheek.

--

tbc

a/n- I'm not an expert of the procedures dealing with how hospitals discharge patients who have been shot (the internet has not been very forthcoming)...so if the facts aren't correct, I'm sorry. But I guess this is my own little world, so let's say this is the way it actually goes : ) If you do know, you can tell me, I am interested in knowing.

Ant thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Hey readers!

So, it was like this: these crazy ninjas broke into my house one night, stole my computer and ran off with it. Through my own brilliant detective work I found they'd taken my computer to Spain. I went through many trials and tribulations…but I at last beat down these enemies who tried to thwart me! So here I am in Spain sending off this next installment. See what I do for you? Don't you love me?

I can only say I'm sorry for such a long delay to anyone who had been waiting…and I humbly beg forgiveness. I can only hope the next installment won't take as long as those ninjas are persistent buggers.

Anyways, onward I say!

--

"You're pregnant."

Sara looked up in shock, her half eaten bagel falling from her fingertips.

"What?"

Catherine narrowed her eyes, raising an eyebrow. "You are pregnant."

Sara stood, taking her coffee cup to the sink. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not _pregnant_!"

Catherine continued as though Sara hadn't spoken. "I cannot believe I didn't see it before, it's so obvious now that I think about it."

"Cath, I'm not-"

"Yes you are." Came the stern reply. Catherine counted on her fingers, "Morning sickness, don't think I haven't noticed. Mood swings, though sometimes it's hard to tell if that's the hormones or just you..."

"I don't have mood swings! And I caught a bug…something I ate."

"Yeah, a nine month bug, I hear those are going around."

Sara stared at Catherine, her face blank. Catherine could see Sara was thinking, weighing, deciding what to say. Sara suddenly sat down, her face in her hands.

"Is it that obvious?" Her words were muffled around her fingers.

"You cried yesterday during a sappy camera commercial."

Sara sniffed, "It was really sad."

"Uh huh."

Sara looked up at Catherine, who was staring at Sara curiously.

"How long?"

"How long what?"

Catherine rolled her eyes. "How long have you been pregnant?"

"Umm…about four months."

Catherine nodded. "Yeah, you look about that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'd figured maybe you'd been gaining weight from being on leave since you got shot…you know, not much exercise, eating ice cream and watching T.V all day…"

"I don't 'watch T.V and eat ice cream all day'!"

Catherine looked at Sara incredulously.

Sara's shoulders slumped. "Well, I wouldn't watch T.V all day if I had something _better _to do."

"Not gonna work. I'm not letting you in on the case." Catherine snapped her fingers, her eyes brightening. "I know what we could do!"

--

It really was adorable.

"It's adorable." Sara said, fingering the soft material of the pink baby jumper.

"Isn't it? This store is great. I came here before I had Lindsey. Of course it wasn't here, it was down on Henderson, but it's almost exactly the same."

They were in Fashion Baby. Sara felt overwhelmed by the large volume of infant clothing. Baby jumpers, jeans, t-shirts, sweaters, hats, swimsuits, socks, slippers, umbrellas, shoes, dresses, tiaras (Sara blinked, what does a baby need a tiara for?), and much, much more.

"Isn't it kind of early for me to…um, start buying anything? I'm only four months…"

Catherine gawked at Sara as though she had said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "Too 'early'? Are you kidding? You can't be too early when it comes to this, Sara. The baby is going to be here before you know it, and how will you cope if you don't have anything?"

Sara suddenly felt alarmed. "Well, I suppose…"

Catherine grabbed a package of soothers, studying them closely. "You're moving into a bigger place, right? A one bedroom apartment is good for well, one person, and though babies are small they grow quickly."

"I,uh, hadn't really thought much about that."

Catherine dropped the soothers into a red basket she had picked up by the entrance. "Well you should if you want to get a new place before the birth. Let's go look at cribs."

They spent another hour in the store, Sara feeling more worried at each question Catherine threw at her. Daycare? Immunizations? Pre-school? Each passing moment Sara felt more and more like a failure. She didn't know anything about babies or how to be a mother.

In a daze Sara arrived at the till and paid for the soothers, a crib, a rocking chair, two little yellow jumpers (Catherine had called them unisex because of their color), and a pair of yellow booties.

Back in the car, Catherine turned to Sara, her face bright. "This is a great start!"

Sara nodded, unable to say a word.

--

"Is it that guy John…Jody…?"

"Huh?" Sara turned from the stove to find Catherine leaning against the counter watching her stir the pasta.

"You know, that guy you were seeing…I think about four months ago. Is he the father?" Catherine opened the freezer, grabbing a carton of strawberry ice cream. Taking two spoons from the drawer she held one out to Sara.

Sara took the spoon. "You mean Josh?"

"Yeah, Josh."

"Uh, no. Definitely not Josh."

"You mean you guys never…?"

"No." Sara dipped her spoon into the open carton, taking a taste she almost groaned in pleasure. This was exactly what she wanted. And strangely she had a sudden craving for pickles…

Catherine hummed, then she was silent a moment taking her own spoonful of ice cream. "Then who?" Sara could hear the raw curiosity under her tone.

Sara sighed, taking another scoop of ice cream. "I'd rather keep it to myself, Cath."

Catherine bit her lip, "You do know who it is…don't you?"

Sara gaped at the blonde. "Of course I know! I'd just rather not say, okay?"

"Well, that's good. Y'know, when I was first pregnant with Lindsey I had a couple months where I wasn't sure. But it only took one blood test…that Eddie didn't know about mind you, I found out she was his. I was so relieved then."

Sara's eyebrows rose further on her forehead. "I know who the father is, Cath. I'd just prefer not to say."

"Okay."

"Thank you." Sara turned back to the stove.

"Is it Steve from narcotics?"

--

"Everything looks top notch from this end, Sara."

"So… it's okay for me to move back home?"

"You still need to where your sling, but you should be able to get by on your own now." Dr. Smith flipped through his notes. "And I see you've had a check up with Dr. Slemski. Everything looks in order on that end. Do you know that sex yet?" Dr. looked up at her.

"Um, no. I decided I'd rather wait."

Dr. Smith nodded, looking through his notes again. "Okay, get my secretary to book you in with Dr. Anderson for physio…"

Sara left the doctor's office and arrived back at Catherine's house forty minutes later feeling a bit lighter. She was looking forward to moving back home. Not that Sara didn't like living with Catherine and Lindsey, she was grateful to them, but after three weeks she began to really desire some privacy. And her own bed.

"Hey Linds." Sara said entering the kitchen as the teenager took a coke from the fridge.

Lindsey looked at Sara, her expression serious. "Do not disturb mom right now."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure…something's happened and she's livid…I think it's something to do with work." Lindsey shrugged.

Leaving Lindsey, Sara walked to the study quietly. She could hear Catherine's voice inside muffled by the door. Opening the door softly, Sara watched Catherine talking on the phone.

"I cannot fucking believe this shit, do you fucking understand what this entails? You say you do, but I don't think you really do. We've lost a major, no not major, the _only_ thing that could've closed this case, do you fucking comprende? My team was working on this case for months, and _you_ send in…no! Fucking hell! Goddammit, you recommended him! You fucking go ahead and talk to my supervisor about my attitude, and why don't you mention how you fucked this case!" Catherine slammed the phone down and muttered something about fornicating pigs. Tearing her jacket from her chair she made to leave but noticed Sara standing in the doorway.

"What's going on?"

Catherine cracked her knuckles. "A little problem with a case."

"Little? Sounds bigger than that." Sara said calmly, crossing her arms, making sure she barred the doorway. "Tell me."

"Sara, let me go, I don't have frigging time for this. I have to get back."

"Then you'd better tell me."

Catherine moved as though to push Sara out of her way.

"You wouldn't push a pregnant woman, would you?"

"Sara." Catherine warned.

"Catherine." Sara said just as seriously.

Catherine looked at her watch and swore under her breath, looking up at Sara's resolute features she sighed. "Fine! Fine, I'll tell you."

--

I hope that wasn't the most boring chapter ever…but I feel it'll serve its purpose.

Thanks, and as always r&r is very much appreciated :)


	10. Chapter 10

Hye readers! Here the next chapter, hope you enjoy it : )

--

"Vodka."

"Vodka?"

Catherine pressed fingers to her temples, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "If you want me to explain all this to you, I'm going to need vodka."

Sara let her pass through the study door and followed the blonde to the kitchen. Finding that Lindsey had left, Sara sat herself on one of the breakfast bar stools. Catherine had already taken a bottle of vodka from the freezer and was in the process of mixing it with orange juice. She took several large swallows of the mixture before speaking.

"Do you remember the Phillips case about three months ago?"

Sara nodded. Who didn't? It wasn't every day a man gouges the eyes out of his whole family, including the dog.

John Phillips had murdered his family and the family dog, and then, ironically, had proceeded to scoop out their eyes with a Phillips screw driver. With such substantial evidence of finger prints, hair fibers, and the screwdriver was owned by John himself it seemed a simple open shut case, no one in their right mind would let Phillips go free. That was until the copy-cat came into the picture.

"I don't know a lot. But I've been reading about it in the papers. The copy-cat's causing a bit of shit show in the media."

Catherine patted her pockets as though searching for cigarettes. "A 'shit show'…what a simple way to put it." She laughed humorlessly. "The copy-cat, William Thorsby, has the same M.O as Phillips other than that his victims are strangers and all women. The connection between the cases is tenuous, but the media loves it. As you said, every fucking paper broadcasted that the police may have the wrong person up for murder charges. Now we've got the media and the mayor breathing down our necks speculating CSI's credibility! About a week ago every piece of evidence pertaining to the case against Phillips was deemed questionable. We've been fucking re-collecting evidence and statements."

"But once you get everything-"

"Yeah that was the plan. Seemed simple enough, right? Well, Ecklie decided that FOR CSI to be truly 'credible' we had to bring in some new people on the case to go over the evidence." She paused swigging her glass back, impressively draining the glass in one mouthful. She slammed the glass down and began pouring orange juice.

"Okay, Ecklie's an ass. No news there. So what happened?"

"Fucking rookie." Catherine growled. "They brought in a fucking rookie on the case. Been working as a CSI under a year."

Sara gaped. "A _rookie_?"

Catherine answer was a grunt and the slosh of vodka.

"What was Ecklie thinking!"

"Apparently it wasn't Ecklie's doing. Oh, Ecklie came up with the fantastic 'let's bring in someone new' idea, but it was the Mayor who pushed for Thompson."

"Thompson?"

"Erik Thompson, the rookie. Apparently he's the godson of the mayor."

"Jesus."

Catherine closed her eyes, breathing heavily. "I can't believe I was so stupid as to let him leave with the evidence bags. Godammit. How could I have been so _stupid_?"

"He didn't…"

Catherine opened her eyes. "He did."

"He left the evidence in his car?"

"Overnight. Someone broke in and stole most of it, along with Thompson's CD player. We're pretty sure it was random." Catherine raised her empty glass. "And thus, the total fuckedness of this case."

"Jesus." Sara repeated.

"The media is going to go fucking apeshit crazy over this. 'CSI: How Those Crazy Fuckups Messed Up Again!'" Catherine dropped her head into her hands, massaging her eyes.

"Put me on it." Sara said suddenly.

Catherine looked up. "What?"

"The case. Put me on it."

"Sara you know I can't, you're still on sick-leave."

"I'm a lot better. Seriously. My doctor even says I can move back home. Put me on the case Cath. You're going to have to bring in new people, but you need to make the preemptive move before Ecklie gets another brilliant idea. Put me on it."

Catherine stared at Sara a moment, then turned and put the mostly empty vodka bottle back in the freezer. Turning back to Sara she nodded.

"Okay. You're on."

Sara flashed a brief smile.

--

It was a bit odd, coming back to work after sick-leave. Not that anything had changed in the CSI building. The corridors still had the same florescent lighting and faint smell of coffee and bleach. But somehow, Sara felt different. She smiled politely when people she was barely acquainted with came up to her telling her how they heard she'd been shot, and how glad they were she was okay. She silently wondered if they would even know who she was if she wasn't wearing the sling.

Sara made her way to the break room. Entering the room she was immediately engulfed by a hug. Four arms surrounded her.

"Um, guys? Air?"

When free she stared up into two smiling faces.

"You look great." Warrick said, scanning her full cheeks. "Putting on some weight, Sidle? Been sitting around eating all day while we work and starve like dogs here?"

Sara punched Warrick's arm and scowled, "I so haven't gained weight."

"Whatever. I always thought you were too skinny anyhow." Nick said grinning.

"You guys are so on my shit list."

Warrick laughed, then just as quickly his smile disappeared. "Cath said she was bringing you in on the Phillip's case."

"Yeah, I almost had to beg her for it."

Nick nodded. "She's been pretty protective of you. She's all 'no, Nick, you can't take Sara to an eleven finger's concert, not in her condition.' You'd think you were dying." Sara giggled at his high-voiced impression.

"I like to think my voice is a bit more throaty than whiney."

Sara, Warrick and Nick all turned in union to the doorway. Catherine was leaning against the door jam.

"Hey Cath," Sara said, smiling. Sara had moved back into her apartment the night before. It was strange how she had been craving having her privacy back, but now that she had it, she kind of missed the noise of living with other people.

Nick had the decency she appear shamefaced. "Hey Cath,"

Catherine entered the room, her face suddenly very serious. "Sara's been brought up to speed on the situation, so I suggest we start as soon as possible."

"Re-recollecting evidence?" Nick said.

Catherine's left eye twitched. "Uh huh."

"Fuckin' A." Warrick said.

--

Sara paused mid step.

"Grissom's here?"

Catherine looked at Grissom who was kneeled in the flower bed. "Yeah, y'know, 'all hands on deck', yadda yadda."

Grissom looked up as they approached.

"Hey Cath,"

"What's up Griss."

"I got a call from the Mayor this morning."

"Huh, you don't say."

Grissom's mouth quirked into a half smile, "Well done."

Catherine grinned. "Thanks." Looking past Grissom she suddenly frowned. "I told those fuckers twice to get those cameras out of here. Hey, asshole! You! Yeah you, fucker! How many times do I have to…" Sara and Grissom watched Catherine stomp away.

"Sara." Grissom said, finally acknowledging her.

"Grissom."

He glanced at her arm in the sling, his face expressionless. "How are you? Better?"

"Much. Thanks."

"Good."

Grissom then looked back down at the finger print he had been lifting. As he went back to work, Sara's stared at him, her mouth a grim line.

Fine, she thought, if he wants to play it this way that's just _fine._ She stalked away. However, if she had been paying attention, she may have noticed how Grissom's hands were shaking ever so slightly.

--

as always r&r is appreciated : )


	11. Chapter 11

a/n- Hello my pretties!! So yes, I've not updated for a while and I am sorry to anyone who's been waiting and I humbly beg your apologies. But I have good excuses...I just arrived home after five months in europe and getting internet connections wasn't always easy...I also have some hardwon advice to impart with you: if and when you go traveling for an extended amount of time, make sure you have similar interests with those you're traveling with. It will make a difference, and it is sometimes better to travel alone than with people who's interests are different than yours. I'm done ranting now. Here is the next chapter and I swear the next won't take as long. Thanks so much for reading, and as always, reviews are greatly appreciated : )

--

Sara breathed in deeply, blinked slowly then looked again. Disbelieving, she turned to Catherine who was kneeled and swabbing a kitchen tile.

"Cath? Who's that?"

Catherine glanced up at Sara. "Huh?"

"That woman talking to Grissom." Sara motioned, pointing through the window.

Catherine capped her swab and stood, groaning as her back protested from being crouched for so long. "Who?" She looked through the window. "Oh, that's Sandra. Detective Sandra Moore. We had to bring a new Detective in." Catherine paused, thinking. Then she said aloud, "Grissom actually recommended Detective Moore." She shrugged returning to her work.

Sara turned away from the window, feigning sudden interest in her CSI kit.

Sandra Moore. So the red head did have a name.

Through the next five hours Sara put her entire concentration on collecting evidence. She adamantly refused to even muse over the red headed Detective or her relationship to one certain entomologist. So immersed in her work she failed to notice someone calling her name until a hand was placed on her shoulder. Jumping in shock, Sara banged her head on the underside of the table she was beneath. Swearing she looked up, giving her assailant a hairy eye.

"Oy, sorry Sara." Catherine said in a voice that Sara decided didn't sound very sorry.

"Next time, you get to do under table evidence gathering."

"Hey, I'd happily let you do prints but I'm not the one who decided to go and get all pregnant."

Sara glanced around quickly, seeing no one within listening range she glared at Catherine, who only shrugged her shoulders.

"We're going to go get something to eat," she waved a disciplinary finger when Sara opened her mouth to protest, "and I won't take 'no' for an answer, missy. I'm hungry so we're going to go eat. Now."

Sara took in Catherine's stubborn expression and sighed. She knew when she was beaten.

Following Catherine outside, Sara stared at the setting sun slightly surprised at how much time had actually passed. Being led by Catherine, Sara didn't realize where they were headed until she heard his voice.

"Cath?" His voice was strained and a bit sharp.

Ignoring Grissom, Catherine nodded her headed at the red head next to him. "Good evening Detective Moore." Then she turned her attention to Grissom. "Sara," she began motioning to the brunette behind her, "and I are going to go eat and rest up."

Grissom's eyes flicked to Sara briefly. "Good idea."

Sara didn't know why she did it. But she brushed past Catherine and placed herself in front of Detective Sandra Moore, her right arm twinged as she extended her hand. "Hello, Detective. I'm Sara Sidle with CSI. It's a pleasure to meet you." Even though her stomach was in knots Sara felt proud of how calm she sounded.

Sara saw the Detective hesitate, and she could have sworn Sandra looked to Grissom before placing her hand in Sara's and shaking it. "CSI Sidle. Yes, I've heard of you. I look forward to working with you." She was so sincere, so bloody sincere. Sara was taking her hand back when the Detective gripped it tighter. Perplexed Sara looked at the red head, a question in her eyes. Detective Moore peered at Sara as though looking at her for the first time. Noticing she still held Sara's hand she let it drop with an apology. "I'm sorry, but I could have sworn…" she pursed her lips, "have we met before?"

"No, we haven't." Sara said, taking a step away from the Detective.

Catherine gave Sara an odd look, but Sara didn't notice. She felt foolish. Sara looked at Grissom quickly who was looking at her with such intensity she stepped back behind Catherine.

After saying a quick goodbye Sara followed Catherine to her vehicle. Sara leaned back in her seat, turned away from Catherine and stared out the passenger window. The ride was silent except for the top 40.

--

Sara stabbed at her scrambled eggs with a fork, pausing halfway to her lips when she caught Lindsey staring at her.

"What?"

"Do vegetarians usually eat eggs?"

"I'm a liberal vegetarian…and I think your thinking about vegans."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow then continued to munch through a piece of toast slathered in jam.

Sara had moved back to her own apartment, but for some reason the silence she used to cherish had become slightly oppressive, especially in the morning when the world seemed to be at its quietest. Bringing her own groceries, she began coming to Catherine and Lindsey's house for breakfast, so it had seemed only logical for Catherine to have brought her there after leaving the scene.

Catherine entered the kitchen, drying her hair with a towel. Looking to Sara she said, "Showers' free if you want it."

"That sounds great, thanks."

After a fantastic, scorching, soul soothing shower, Sara returned to the kitchen in search of an orange she knew was in the fridge.

"We need to talk." Sara stopped mid step, eyeing Catherine's leaning against the counter.

"Okay." Sara said cautiously.

Despite initiating the conversation Catherine remained silent. She watched the brunette open the fridge and retrieved an orange. Her eyes followed Sara's every move as she began cutting the orange with a serrated knife.

"I know who the father is."

Sara glanced up at Catherine, a smile pulling at her lips. "Oh yeah? Who do you think it is this time? Josh? Tim from Trace? Or Paul…"

Catherine cut Sara off bluntly. "I know its Grissom."

Sara stopped cutting. Her grip on the knife tightened then slackened. She carefully set the knife down in the sink. Sara braced her hands on the counter taking a deep breath.

"What?"

"Look at me Sara." Her voice was angry.

Sara looked at Catherine who was studying her with narrowed eyes. Sara cleared her throat. "Why do you think that Grissom…" She trailed off.

"I _know,_ Sara. It was so obvious today…don't bullshit me."

Sara stared at Catherine unable to speak, her orange forgotten.

"It's funny," Catherine began. "I never thought Grissom would act on his feelings for you." She grabbed a piece of cut orange. "I've known for a long time he's had pretty powerful feelings for you. While I doubted he'd ever express them to you, I'd always figured if he did he'd be a lot happier." Catherine bit into the orange. "He's not happy Sara. Your baby is evidence of him showing you his true feelings…so there is only really one way I can interpret this." She gave Sara's pale face a severe look. "While I really value our friendship Sara, if you've hurt Gil I can't…"

Sara cut her off, her voice forced and incredulous. "You think I…?"

"I know Gil wouldn't…"

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Sara's voice warned Catherine to back off, but Catherine's stubbornness and loyalty to Grissom wouldn't let her.

"I can't just stand by if you've broken the heart of one of my oldest friends…"

"Stop it." Sara barked, breathing heavily. "You know nothing. You think I broke his heart? Try the other way around. You say he wouldn't back out of a relationship with me? The morning after we…" Sara huffed in a breath. "_He's_ the one who left. He's the one who ignored what happened. He's the one who broke _my_ heart. He's the one who doesn't want this baby." Sara stopped, a sob threatening to escape.

"What? Grissom wouldn't…he knows?" Catherine looked thoroughly shaken.

Sara laughed sharply. "Yeah, after I was shot the doctor told him."

Catherine shook her head, her eyes crinkled in confusion. "I can't see Grissom doing this…it goes against everything I know about him." She ran a hand through her blonde hair. "Grissom knows it's his right?"

Sara looked away from Catherine. "He didn't want it. I know he didn't. It's best he doesn't know."

Sara looked to Catherine startled at the blondes hand suddenly clamped on her bicep. "Sara, you're a bright girl and I like you a lot," Catherine said carefully, anger a finger under her tone, "but you'd better be fucking kidding me here."

Sara wrenched her arm away. "This is none of your business! Just stay out of it."

"None of my business." Catherine's voice was full of disbelief. "I can't believe you could be so damned selfish."

"Me!"

"Sure, I'll grant you Grissom didn't handle your intimacy very well…but holding this from Grissom. Good God, no wonder he's been so short-tempered." Catherine pointed a threatening finger at the brunette. "I swear, Sara, if you don't tell him I will."

"This isn't your business." Sara hissed.

Catherine studied her friend for a moment, taking in Sara's anger and desperation she felt a surge of compassion for her. "You're my friend Sara, but Grissom is my friend too. Punishing him this way also punishes your child. I promise you: I will tell him if you don't." Catherine walked to the kitchen door, her back to Sara. "The spare room is free, you know where everything is."

Sara heard Catherine walk to her bedroom enter it and softly close the door.

It was a long time before Sara went to the spare bed room; and even longer until she fell asleep.

--

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Hola, ya'll! Here is the next chapter! It took me longer than I thought...mostly because of Harry Potter!...and holy man-parts batman...book 7...wooo!

Aaanyways, I have a warning for this chapter: slight spoilers for the Strip Strangler episode...the one from the first season.

enjoy! and as always reviews are greatly appreciated : )

---

…_some months before…_

"_Do you remember that case we had with the strip strangler?"_

_Grissom looked over at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Yes."_

_Sara was silent for a moment, staring off into a darkened alley. "Do you remember what you said to me?"_

_Grissom's eyes crinkled in bemusement, he watched her wondering where this was leading. "I think I said a lot of things. Is there a particular moment you have in mind?"_

_He saw her mouth quirk into a small smile before she tilted her head, subsequently hiding her face from his gaze, "The moment after my plan to play as bait failed."_

"_Ah," he shuffled his feet, rocks escaping under his soles, "I'm sorry to say I cannot recall anything specific about that moment…I remember being very…" he paused as though searching for a word "worried for your safety."_

_Sara let out a dry chuckle. Then she abruptly faced him, her eyes bright and cold. "You said to me that one of the hardest things to do was to do nothing."_

_Grissom remained silent. Her eyes pressed into him as though willing him to say something. _

_When he didn't say anything she sighed, her eyes became unreadable. "Sometimes, I think for some people it's easier to do nothing." _

_Her words covered him like ice. He couldn't think of any response to that. Nothing she'd want to hear._

_His mouth felt dry, "Sara…" He didn't know what to say._

_She glanced away nodding at the wave an officer sent them. The scene was open for buisness. Looking back at Grissom she held up a hand, halting what was sure to have been an awkward side step to a more comfortable discussion._

"_Forget it. Let's get inside." She picked up her case, then left him standing by the government issued vehicle. He watched her enter the house, and when she left his view he imagined her stepping over the crime scene tape._

_His shoulders hunched, he soon followed her inside._

_He watched her the rest of night, (always when he knew she couldn't see him staring) trying to understand why she had brought up the strip strangler case. He felt as though he had taken a misstep and he was finding it difficult to plant his feet on level ground._

_It was several days later that found him at her doorstep. She let him inside, confusion marring her brows. _

_His eyes burned into her as she asked him why he had come. Not answering he took two steps towards her, invading her personal space. She made to move back, her breath catching. But he was too quick; an arm snaked around her waist, his other hand gently cupped the back of her neck. She looked up at him speechless, her eyes dark and questioning._

"_You were right, Sara. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to do something…" he whispered before he pressed his lips on hers. Over, and over. It was not long until she responded in kind._

--

Sara gave three hard knocks on the hard wood door. She waited a moment before repeating. It was another minute later until it opened. A short, weathered elderly lady looked out at her.

"Sara." Mrs. Renold's wrinkled face broke into a wide smile. "What a pleasant surprise! I thought you said you'd be gone until tomorrow."

Sara smiled warmly at the elderly lady. Mrs. Renold's had been Sara's neighbor since she'd moved to Vegas. Mrs. Renold's was constantly bringing cookies and other baked goods to Sara's door, claiming her own children and grand children were too far away for her to spoil. Sara always thought the old gal worried after her because Sara worked long hours and lived alone.

"I decided to come back early."

"Alright, darling. It'll be just a moment." Mrs. Renold's shuffled back through her apartment while Sara stayed at the front door. When Mrs. Renold's returned she held a wriggling bundle of fur.

"I think she missed you." Taking the cat with both hands, Sara smiled down at the feline. Sara looked up at Mrs. Renold's who was studying her with a thoughtful expression.

"Are you alright, Hon?"

Sara meant to just smile and tell her a simple 'I'm fine,' but when she opened her mouth a sob escaped. Covering her face with her free hand, she let Mrs. Renold's usher her inside the apartment.

A cup of tea later, Sara was starting to feel decidedly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to go off like that."

Mrs. Renold's shook her head with an understanding smile tilting her lips. "Don't apologize for being human, sweetheart."

A comfortable silence elapsed between them. Sara smiled accepting a refill of herbal tea.

Mrs. Renold's didn't ask why Sara had cried. The reason didn't seem to matter to the elderly woman why. She offered Sara only comfort. Mrs. Renold's apparent lack of expectations may have been the reason why Sara spoke.

"I'm pregnant." The words slipped from her mouth, Sara looked at Mrs. Renold's quickly. Mrs. Renold's only smiled; her eyes slightly dewy.

"How wonderful, Sara!"

"Yes…it really is." Sara paused realizing she really meant it. It really was wonderful. Then she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Which is why I think I'll be moving."

There were definite tears in Mrs. Renold's eyes now. "Moving somewhere bigger I suppose? Somewhere with the father?"

Sara could hear the question under her tone. If it had been anyone else…

Sara cleared her throat, looked away, then back into the watery blue eyes. "The father…isn't really interested. I think I'll be moving back to San Francisco on my own." Sara felt her chest tighten, she blinked away tears. Saying it made it seem much more final some how.

Mrs. Renold's said nothing for a long moment. She peered at Sara with soft eyes. Finally she shrugged her thin shoulders, "Well, do whatever you think is best, dear."

And somehow, Mrs. Renold's acceptance made Sara feel worse.

--

Sara had left Catherine's early. She had called a couple days before to ask Mrs. Renold's to watch over Asha, but this was before Catherine had revealed she knew Sara's secret. After that Sara found being in Catherine's home was no longer a safe haven but a place that was suffocating her with Catherine's quiet, but meaningful looks.

After four hours of fitful sleep, a quick hot shower, and a cup of coffee, Sara found herself once again at the crime scene. She passed her shift with little thoughts outside the evidence. Not to say she didn't notice Catherine's arrival, a frown on her face with a raised eyebrow as if to ask a question. Sara could only look away. Nor did she not notice a certain red head that had started making regular appearances at the crime scene. And she couldn't deny the increase of her heart rate when she saw him. She stole glances of him, feeling compassion for him as his face betrayed his exhaustion.

He approached her once asking for cotton swabs. She looked at him confused before handing him some. Why hadn't he asked Catherine? He paused before leaving, his mouth poised to say something. But he didn't. He walked away.

--

tbc, my pretties.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N-I humbly beg forgiveness for the time between this update and the last. I can only say that school and work have been a bitch...or rather I'm its bitch. If you feel the need to throw sharp objects at me, I'll understand. I love you all for taking time to read this...and if you feel the desire to review I'll love you even more. I truly hope it doesn't dissapoint.

Sara left her physio therapist's office feeling distinctly that her shoulder hurt worse than an hour before. In her vehicle she checked her cell phone, inwardly groaning at her two missed call. Both from Catherine; and both, Sara was sure, concerning the same issue. Sara ignored the guilty twinge in her conscience and clipped her phone shut.

She pulled into a market nearby her apartment quickly purchasing cheese, pickles, and on a whim a chocolate cake. She was pregnant, moody, and feeling sexually frustrated, dammit. She deserved friggin' chocolate cake.

Pulling up to her apartment complex Sara grabbed her grocery bags and proceeded inside. After putting away the food and stroking Asha a 'hello', Sara sat on her couch flipping through a magazine determined to enjoy her night off. Ten minutes later she was alphabetizing her book shelf.

Half way through her grilled cheese, Sara was startled when someone knocked on her door loudly.

"Dammit Cath, couldn't you just…" Sara froze, the door halfway open. Her hand slipped from the handle.

Grissom stood before her. He looked tired and disheveled. What made her pause wasn't that he was there (though that was enough of a surprise on its own), but the raw fury that graced his features.

Grissom pushed his way into her apartment. Sara, who somehow lost the ability to speak, watched him enter and close the door behind him.

"What the _hell_ is this?!"

'This' was a crumpled sheet of paper that he held up for Sara to see. A piece of paper she recognized at once.

"That," she began calmly, "is my notice of resignation."

Grissom's hands clenched, the resignation letter slightly crumpling. "How can you…?! What the hell Sara!" He harshly raked a hand through his short hair.

"I'm quitting." Sara said firmly.

"I won't allow it. I don't allow it." Grissom growled ripping the letter in half.

"You don't allow it?" Her voice was low, dangerous.

"No!"

Sara worked to keep her voice calm and steady, "You can't fight me on this, Grissom. I'm leaving. I'm moving back to San Francisco."

"The hell I can't fight you on this! I have every right to fight you on this!"

If Sara had been listening to his words clearly, she might have realized how odd his statement was, but in her heightened temper she was momentarily oblivious. "Too damn bad," she snapped. "You had your chance. I'm not playing this…game with you anymore. I'm leaving whether you like it or not."

Grissom visibly struggled to lower his anger. He breathed in deeply and let out a slow breath. "Sara, you can't leave."

Sara, unlike Grissom, didn't try to hold back her temper. She tossed her hands in the air in frustration. "Dammit Grissom, you don't own me! I am not yours to control."

Grissom watched her silently for a moment, her eyes were wide and dark; color stained her cheeks, her chest heaving. He ached to reach out and touch her. "No," he began carefully, "but part of that baby is mine." He gestured to her stomach.

Sara paled, "What," she licked her lips, finding her mouth suddenly dry, "what did you say?"

Grissom studied her seriously, "I know it's mine Sara."

Sara stepped back, farther into her apartment. Grissom stepped forward, determined to not let her escape. "I…I…" Sara mumbled incoherently, she hugged her arms to her body, subconsciously providing a shield for her unborn child. "Grissom…we…I told you…" she continued weakly.

Grissom growled in the back of his throat. He grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to stop moving. "Stop it, Sara. Stop lying."

She wouldn't look at him, but she stopped trying to move away. "I told you in the hospital…I thought you understood."

Grissom found himself sorely tempted to shake her, "Stop it, Sara. Stop lying, I know, okay? I know the truth." He continued, as though finally admitting it opened floodgates for what he'd forced himself to hold back, "I know you lied to me in the hospital. I didn't know right then…no, I was too shocked to comprehend anything else. All I understood was that you were having a baby, and you told me it wasn't mine. I never thought that you would…or that you_ could _lie about something so important. I trusted what you told me. You ripped out my heart that day, Sara. I know, I know. I kept turning you down…turning you away. But you knew I loved you…and just even thinking you and some other man," He trailed off, swallowing heavily, "it's not fair to you. Believe me I know that. I'm usually so level-headed…but around you I just…sometimes reason and logic don't matter. So when you said you were pregnant with someone else, I didn't see through the lie as quickly as I would have usually."

During his speech Sara had lifted her eye to meet his, tears rolled down her cheeks. "H-how long…?"

Grissom lifted his hand as though to wipe away her tears, but he sighed letting his hand drop. "Since that day you met Samantha at the crime scene. The look on your face. I realized then what I'd been missing. I know you Sara. I know your facial expressions better than my own. What I saw on your face during the crime scene was exactly what I saw in the hospital room."

Sara kept her eyes on his but stepped away from him, feeling a desperate need for space. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"I was waiting for you to tell me. I knew you would in your own time. I couldn't…I still can't understand why you would lie to me in the first place…but I wanted you to tell me. It's been killing me…knowing but not telling you I knew." He trailed off, staring at her as though waiting for her to say something, when she only looked back at him mutely he sighed. He felt his anger seep out of him, "I suppose another reason is that somewhere I had been irrationally hoping that you hadn't held back of your own violation. But I can see now that clearly wasn't the case. Why did you lie, Sara?"

"You didn't want me. How could I expect you to want my baby?" She whispered.

Grissom stared at her, his eyes full of pain. He brought up his hands, cupping her face. Sara leaned into his touch, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. "Oh, Sara. Oh, honey. I wanted you. I wanted you too much."

"Past tense."

"You know I still want you."

Sara jerked away from his hands and stalked into her kitchen. She opened her fridge, swearing when she saw she'd forgotten to buy bottled water. Slamming the door shut she whirled to face Grissom who had followed her into the kitchen and was watching her silently. "I cannot deal with you right now."

"You can't leave Sara."

"I can't fucking stay."

Grissom cursed under his breath, and then before she could think, he pulled her to him. His lips pressed against hers. Sara moaned, her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer. The kiss was passionate and yearning, her mouth opened against his caress. As his tongue met hers she pushed him away. Both of them stared at each other, breathing heavily.

"This is why I have to go. You are constantly playing with my emotions. I can't take it anymore. You're so hot and cold…one moment you want me…the next I'm too much of an inconvenience."

"Sara…" He stepped forward reaching for her. Sara slapped his hand away.

"No. You can't do this to me anymore. Get the hell out of here."

Grissom didn't move, but Sara could see his eyes becoming cold and unreadable, his posture radiated anger. "Fine. I'll leave. But know this Sara; I'll fight you. I'll take you to court if you force this."

With that as parting words, he left, her front door slamming in his wake.

Sara stared at the spot he last stood for undeterminable minutes before she sank to the floor, her head in her hands.

tbc


	14. Chapter 14

a/n- mucho thank yous to everyone who reviewed/alerted/fav authored me! You guys are like fuel to my muse! Dance monkey! Anyways, I was really touched and it just made me want to get this out faster...so the next chapter is here, and I do hope you enjoy it : ) Hasta luego!

--

She tried his house first.

After fifteen minutes of banging on his front door and receiving no answer she decided he either was not answering or wasn't home. Looking at her watch she mentally slapped herself. He was at work. Of course.

She entered the CSI building looking for the man who had left her apartment over two hours before. She nodded at Nick who stared after her, slight confusion marring his brows. Sara stalked towards Grissom's office; she could see him sitting behind his desk reading a file. Without giving herself time to reconsider, she quickly entered his office and closed the door behind her.

Grissom stared up at her, surprise written across his face. Sara walked up to his desk, bracing her hands on it. Leaning forward she glared at him.

Sara Sidle was pissed.

"You cannot be fucking serious." She hissed.

"Excuse me?"

"Take me to court? Are you freaking serious?"

Grissom pulled off his glasses, sighing, "Yes … I mean, I don't want to. I'm not sure how to handle this Sara. I can't let you leave."

"So you decide the best way to make me stay is threaten to take me to court."

Grissom stared at her, anger set in his shoulders. "If it's what I have to do to make sure you and my child stay, then yes dammit."

Sara abruptly stepped back, her hands clenching and unclenching. "I really don't get you," she said softly, her hard eyes holding his gaze, "you said you didn't want to have a relationship with me because of our reputations…but now you're willing to say 'the hell with it' and let everyone know what happened?"

"You're having my baby." Grissom said simply, as though it explained everything.

Sara sat down in the chair facing his desk, taking a deep breath she stared at him. "This is…a lot to take in right now, Gris."

"No shit."

Without meaning to, she smiled. But it was gone so fast that if Grissom hadn't been studying her face he wouldn't have seen it.

"Okay." She sighed, appearing to slightly wilt, her adrenaline rush wearing off. "Okay, I won't be moving … at this moment. I am sorry for doubting how you would handle this … news."

Grissom raised an eyebrow, "You seem displeased."

"No, really I'm not. Don't get me wrong, this has been a huge shock for me. I really am glad you want to be a part of this." She smiled a bit ironically, "We both know what it's like to not grow up with the whole parent package, right? I really want the best for my kid."

"Our kid."

Sara stared at him a moment, somehow feeling her heart melt a little. "Right. Our child." She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head, "I cannot believe I'm actually here talking to you about this. This is totally surreal."

Grissom gave her a tender smile, "I think it's completely amazing. I never though that I'd…" He trailed off staring at her, his eyes slightly shiny, "Well, it's amazing."

Sara had to look away, emotion clogging her throat.

Grissom's beeped suddenly sounded, making Sara jump. Grissom cursed looking to see the display. He looked up at her apologetically.

"I have to …"

"Go. It's alright. I understand." She watched him stand and shrug into his jacket. "But we still have a lot to discuss, Gris."

Grissom nodded, "I know."

"Can you meet after shift for breakfast at the diner?"

"Sure."

Grissom walked to the door paused with his hand on the handle, then he walked back to his desk where Sara was standing. He hesitated briefly before raising his hand, lightly gliding his knuckles across her cheek bone. Sara stepped back.

"That," She said seriously, her heart beating in her ears, "is something we need to talk about."

Grissom stared at her mutely for a long moment before nodding slowly. With one last lingering glance he turned and left.

--

"What?!"

Sara held the phone away from her ear, Catherine screech making her eardrum ring.

"Grissom confronted me, he knows Cath. He knew everything."

Catherine breathed heavily for a moment. Sara guessed the blonde was trying to find a secluded area to talk. Sara felt bad calling while Catherine was in the middle of a crime scene, but she knew the other CSI would've been angrier if she hadn't called. So called she had.

"Oh my god." Catherine finally said, her voice a hushed tone. "I never thought he'd … this is just … wow, Sara."

"I know."

"So what have you guys talked about, what've you decided… crap! Just tell me what's going on."

Sara twiddled her fingers around the telephone cord, "Well, he's not taking me to court for now."

"What?!" Catherine shouted again.

Sara sat back on her couch going through what happened since Grissom had entered her apartment earlier that evening; she left out the kiss deciding it was a bit too personal and she wasn't even sure how she herself felt about it yet.

Catherine was silent when Sara finished speaking. Sara stabbed a bite of chocolate cake. Delicious.

"Cath, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm just still really surprised. But then again not so surprised. I mean, I've known Grissom for a long time. He's incredibly loyal; of course he wouldn't kick one of his own to the curb."

Sara chewed her lip, considering. "You think that's all what this is? Just loyalty?"

Catherine sighed, her voice full of pity, "Oh Sara."

Sara blinked back a rush of tears, she felt pathetic and stupid. "Listen Cath, I'd like to get some sleep before I meet with him. And I know you need to get back to your scene. We'll talk later, okay?"

Sara could almost see Catherine's eyes narrowing at the false cheer in her voice, "Fine. But we will talk later. Call me after you guys have breakfast."

Sara voiced the affirmative, and then hung up. Moving into the kitchen she dumped the leftover cake into the garbage … it suddenly wasn't so appealing anymore.

tbc


	15. Chapter 15

A/N- firstly, this is what I have to say about Sara being written off the show: 'La lalala LA not listening!! LA LA lalala!!!' secondly, thank you so so sooooooooo much to everyone who's been reviewing. You guys seriously stimulate my muse : ) I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter : )

--

Sara glowered into her tea wishing she could have a cup of coffee to soothe her nerves.

He was late. She supposed they should have set a specific time…but they'd said after shift, and she knew how long it took to get to the diner from the CSI building. The first five minutes, she let it pass. The next five she was beginning to feel a bit antsy. The last seven minutes she'd been becoming peeved steadily on her way to angry. Had he changed his mind? How could he change his mind? God, would he actually just leave her here, wondering? Would he just when she thought…

Sara's inner tirade was interrupted when the diner's front door opened with a jingle of bells. And there he was. He was wearing the same clothes he'd had on in his office; his hair was ruffled as though he'd been raking his fingers through it. He looked absolutely delicious. Damn hormones. Damn him.

When he spotted her his face brightened, a crooked smile shaping his lips. Sauntering through the restaurant he slid into the booth opposite her.

"Sorry I'm late." His rough voice sent a shiver down Sara's spine. Looking to the waitress he ordered a cup of coffee, when she walked away he turned his gaze back to Sara. "I got held up a bit."

"No problem." Like hell.

An awkward silence fell between them, neither one sure how to continue. They both began speaking at the same time, only to stop and let out a laugh full on tension. Sara motioned for Grissom to continue.

Grissom ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Listen, Sara … I … I'm not sure exactly what to say here. This situation is totally unprecedented to me. This is new and untried for me, but you have to believe I want this baby. I don't want you to leave. Please."

Perhaps it was the 'please', or the earnestness in his face, the honesty in his voice, or maybe a mix of all three, but Sara's anger and annoyance escaped her.

Sara licked her lips, thinking carefully. "I'll stay. I said I would. I'm willing to give this a try. But Griss ... I need to know that you're doing this because you want to, not because of obligation. My father didn't want me, and he made that very clear to me. I can't—I won't have my child grow up with a parent that doesn't really want them."

Grissom stared at her, amazement and confusion warring his features. "Didn't I just say I wanted the baby?"

"Yeah, I know. But I just need to make sure. I grew up…you know how I grew up. I don't want that for my kid."

"Our kid." He corrected. "God Sara, Of course I want this baby. Not out of obligation… or, or, any misguided sense of duty. I want it because it's ours, Sara." His voice was so tender, Sara yearned to slide in next to him and cuddle up to his side. But of course she stayed on her side, he on his.

Sara let out a deep breath. "Okay, then. I mean, staying here seems to be the best thing to do right now."

His face lit up. "Thank you, Sara. Really."

Sara smiled at him impishly. "Well, you'd have taken me to court, right?"

Grissom laughed, unembarrassed. "Sorry about that. I just didn't know what else to do."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "So you were bluffing?"

Leaning forward in his seat, he placed a hand softly over hers. "I don't know," He began softly. "I think I did mean it. Seeing your resignation made me realize some things. I don't know if there's anything I wouldn't do to try to keep you from leaving."

Sara felt her heart expand, but rationality was quick to dampen the tendril on hope. She slid her hand away from under his. Grissom watched her move away from his touch, his smile faltering. "Listen Griss, I'm feeling a bit confused about what's going on here. I mean…the kiss." She flushed slightly. "And, um, the touching. Just…what's going on?"

"Well, we love each other. And were having a baby. It's kind of logical we, um, date."

Sara narrowed her eyes. "You want to date."

Grissom eyed her stiffening body posture, feeling suddenly unsure of himself. "Yeah. I mean … don't you?"

Sara stared at him for a moment, not speaking. "So what you're saying is that now we're having this baby, it's more convenient for you to date me."

"Yeah. I mean, no! That's not what I meant at all."

"Then tell me what you meant."

"I love you, Sara. I want to be with you. Yes, maybe now it's a bit more … convenient … but I … fuck, this is coming out all wrong …" He trailed off, his eyes pleading with her to understand.

Sara felt her heart tear a little bit more. She hardened her features. "What about Sandra?"

Grissom blinked. "What?"

"You're dating her, aren't you?"

"We never … I mean, we went on a couple dates, but we weren't dating."

Sara stared down at her empty mug. "I see. Grissom, call me emotional, hormonal, or anything else, but excuse me for having a problem with you wanting to date me now that our previous relations can't be kept a secret anymore."

Grissom flinched inwardly at her cold voice. "Sara, you know I didn't mean that."

Sara held up a hand, making him silent. "You never do, do you?" She paused, closing her eyes, opening them she looked at Grissom. "I'm sorry, but I just can't do this. I'm staying. I haven't changed my mind about that. But you and me … you hurt me very badly these past few months, Griss. I can't pretend it didn't happen. I do love you. But you hurt me…and I'm just not ready to consider a relationship … like that with you right now." She bit her lip, considering. "It's kind of ironic that this is what I thought I wanted. But hearing it … seeing it within my possession I know I can't take it."

"Sara, I … what can I do? What do you want me to do?"

Sara sighed softly, her heart breaking at his distraught face. "Time. Just give me time."

…

Groaning, Sara laid her head against Catherine's kitchen table.

"Good for you."

Sara sat up. "Really? You don't think I messed up?"

Catherine shook her head. "Not at all. You need to time to absorb everything. And Grissom having to wait around wondering is a major plus."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "I thought you'd be angry at me; being one of his best friends and all."

"You and I are friends too. Anyways, I've known Grissom for ages -- I know when he needs a quick swift of reality."

Sara let out a strangled laugh, wiping away a few tears. "I'm sorry," She half sobbed. "I've been so freaking emotional lately."

Catherine rubbed her back soothingly. "It's okay. Been there, done that." She handed the brunette a tissue. "How does ice cream and a chick flick sound?"

Sara looked up at her friend through blurry eyes. "Perfect."

--

tbc


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N_- Allo all! So, the PTB have sufficiently ripped out my heart and stomped on it. I don't know if I'll be able to watch the next ep. siigh. Anyways, here's the next chapter, I hope ya'll like. And thankyou soooooo much for the fantastic reviews, they really brighten my day : )

--

_They were arguing. She could see them from her hiding place. But he couldn't see her. He couldn't._

_He raised his hand, aggression taunt in his body. She clenched her eyes closed, hugging her stuffed bear to her chest. She waited for the raised hand to hit her mother. And waited. There was no piercing sound of flesh against flesh. Sara opened her eyes hesitantly. And she screamed. He was there, kneeling in front of her, peering at her hiding under the kitchen table._

"_Hello, sweetheart."_

_Something knocked against the table. Her father didn't seem to hear it._

"_Come out here." His voice was dangerous. She knew that voice._

_More knocking. Sara scooted away from her father's reaching hand. Where was the knocking coming from?_

_The knocking persisted._

Sara woke up.

Disorientated she looked at her alarm clock; she'd been asleep for two hours. What had woken her?

She jumped when three loud knocks rapped at her front door.

Sara burrowed further under her covers, hoping whoever it was would go away. A moment later three more sharp raps exploded through her apartment. Groaning, she sat up, her hair plastered to the side of her face. Grumbling she got out of bed, wincing at her tired, protesting muscles. She wrangled her exhausted body into her house coat as she swore obscenities at who dared wake her from her much needed sleep.

"Who dares to disturb my slumber?" She giggled to herself. Okay, she really needed more sleep.

A few more sharps knocks had her in motion. "Okay, dammit. I'm coming!"

Peeping through the fish eye she groaned inwardly. She futilely tried to straighten her hair and her house coat before giving up and opening the door.

"What are you doing here, Grissom?"

Grissom smiled boyishly at her holding up a plastic grocery bag. "I bring breakfast."

Sara blinked. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Mind letting me in?"

She did, not really thinking past 'Grissom brought me breakfast?'

He slipped past her into her apartment and into her kitchen. Sara stared at the spot her boss had recently vacated, trying to make sense of what just happened. Following him into the kitchen she watched him place one of her non-stick pans on her stove.

"What are you doing?"

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "I thought I already made that clear." He took in her confused face and clarified, "Making breakfast."

She flushed, feeling more than a little flustered. God he looked good. Too good. "No, I got that. But why? I mean, why here – in my home?"

"Well," He dropped some butter into the heating pan, and then took out a carton of eggs. "I know pregnant women need to keep an eye on their diet. I just wanted to help out a bit. I know you don't usually eat breakfast … but considering the baby I thought it'd be best if you got into the habit of it."

If anything was like a cold splash of reality that sure was. Sara felt her shoulders stiffen, all vestiges of sleep left her. "I assure you Grissom, I am not totally inept. I know what I need – what this baby needs."

Grissom looked up her from the bowl he was breaking eggs in. His face softened, taking in her attire and obviously just got up appearance. God she was adorable, her lip protruding in an angry pout. Setting down the egg he was holding he took a step towards her. "Of course I know you're capable, Sara. If anyone is … it's you. I just," He bit his lip, looking suddenly unsure. "I wanted to help. I want to be a part of this." He gestured towards her stomach.

Sara felt the fight leave her. "I'm sorry. I know you do. And I want you to."

"Really?" His smile lit up his whole face.

"Yeah." She said softly, then looking past him, "Your butter is burning."

Grissom turned to the stove with a curse. Leaning against the counter Sara silently watched him cook a cheese omelet. He glanced at her occasionally, a grin always present on his lips. How utterly domestic was this? Sara felt her heart expand; him and her having breakfast like they had just woken up together …

Sara frowned. No. That wasn't right. She couldn't give into fantasies. She wasn't ready. Not near ready.

He smiled at her again, his eyes slightly concerned at her suddenly somber face.

Her heart melted a little. Okay, so maybe she was a bit more ready than she thought.

--

"These are the absolutely best eggs I've ever had."

Grissom laughed. "Well thanks, Ms. Sara."

"You could seriously romance a girl with eggs like these."

Grissom froze. When she realized what she said she froze too, cursing herself.

She blushed furiously. "I didn't mean … I … "

He smiled, understanding in his gaze. "I know."

Feeling the friendly camaraderie dissipate, Sara swallowed the last of her orange juice. She just had to speak before the thought, didn't she?

"I'm not trying to romance you, you know."

"Oh, god. I know. Really. And I really appreciate you giving me time -"

He cut her off. "But that doesn't mean I'm not trying to woo you."

Sara gaped at him a moment. "What?"

"I'm trying to woo you. Not romance you."

She could only stare at him; words completely failed her.

Popping the last of his eggs into his mouth he stood taking his plate and hers. Sara stood and followed him without realizing she'd done so until they were in the kitchen.

"You're … wooing me."

"Yes." He closed the dishwasher with a decisive click.

"Not romancing me."

"Correct."

"Is there a difference?"

He smiled warmly at her, wiping down her counters with a dishcloth. "Most definitely. Romancing is dating: movies, dinner, operas if you like. But wooing … well wooing is more scientific. Strategic. It must be carefully planned and executed. It's the little things, making breakfast, driving you to your doctor appointments, – which by the way I'd like to start coming with you, if you don't mind – just being there when you need me, or don't need me."

Okay, so she was goo inside. "Oh."

He smiled and put the orange juice into the fridge.

"Doesn't it kind of cancel out … the wooing … if you tell me about it?"

He shrugged as though unconcerned. "Perhaps. But I doubt it. I want our relationship to have an honest start. We've kept too many secrets from each other."

"Grissom, you know I -"

He held up his hand, halting her speech. "I know. You need time. Believe me, I know … and I understand. I completely respect your wishes. I won't ever step past your boundaries until you are … or if you ever are, ready." He paused a moment. "But I want to show you that I can be a better man. That I can be a man that deserves you."

Walking up to her slowly he placed his hand gently on her cheek. "Because you deserve someone that deserves you. Nothing less."

She tried to speak. He held up a finger to her lips. "Don't. Just let me try. Will you let me?"

And god help her, she nodded.

"That's all I can ask." He slid into his jacket. "Call me with details about your next appointment, will you?"

She could only nod helplessly. He gave her another heart-stopping smile and then he was gone.

--


End file.
